


A Floral Courtship

by jxkuzure



Series: Omegaverse [8]
Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Manipulative Hannibal, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Non-Explicit Sex, Omega Will, Polyamory, Slow Build, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxkuzure/pseuds/jxkuzure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{ Lecter Twins AU | Rewrite of "Through the Iris" | NSFW Warning }<br/>Hannibal Lecter finds himself growing romantically interested in Will Graham and wishes to court the Omega while a twin half-way across the world takes a liking and is also willing to fight for the spoils. Will Graham, on the other hand, is not looking for companionship and doesn't take Hannibal's advances to heart. Due to Will's repulse, he starts toiling his hands with flowers and blood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bouquet Of Snapdragons (A Bouquet of Desire)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Through The Iris](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2139075) by [ryuko matoi (jxkuzure)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxkuzure/pseuds/ryuko%20matoi). 



A Floral Courtship  
jxkuzure

Chapter One

“A Bouquet Of Snapdragons”  
( A Bouquet of Desire )

Another tissue wad that didn’t make it in the trash can, Will hated his springtime allergies with a passion. Flowers may look beautiful on at any other time of the year but, they were the devil’s little agents to Will’s sinuses. His nose felt chapped from all the blowing and wiping. He’d been damned if flowers started growing out in the yard.

His dogs seemed to be fine and happily ran in the yard while eating every little sprout of grass. As long as they weren’t sick, Will was fine with their frolicking. Crawford had given him three days of excused sick leave, which gave time for the profiler to take a breather from the last case. It was a bloody mess, literally, and quite frankly Will thought it could’ve been some gruesome animal attack. Yet Crawford was dead sure this was another Chesapeake Ripper case and dragged Will out to the middle of nowhere. That had been months ago and now that spring was at the doorstep, Will was apt to see if there was going to be more “when animals attack” cases.

His dogs all crowded around the door so he got up from his couch and let them back in, each one of them greeting their master with a bark. Will noticed a pure black Bentley parked in the driveway and stepped out the door, pulling his sweater closely around his body. Though it was a moderately cool day, Will felt like someone shoved him into a meat locker.

Hannibal, dressed in bright blue and white, stepped out the Bentley with a tupperware container and a bundle of flowers. From the appearance, they looked to be snapdragons -- the rich pinks and oranges of the petals was clear. His face wrinkled with a smile as he approached the porch steps.  
  
“Doctor Lecter, quite a surprise to see you.”, Will greeted and met the physiatrist at the steps.  
  


“I should’ve called ahead but I’m sure I’m not invading your sick leave?”, the psychiatrist handed the profiler the tupperware container.

“It’s not a big deal, Doctor Lecter.”

Hannibal’s smile brightened for a moment as he watched the profiler pop the lid off and examine the contents inside. Seeing that Will looked satisfied with the contents, Hannibal made a note to bring more meals to the profiler. An old-fashioned beef and vegetable soup would be good for Will’s illness and it would give a reason for Hannibal to stay.

Will noticed the flowers in Doctor Lecter’s possession and held back a sneeze. It would’ve been impolite to deny the flowers and Will quickly distant himself or he would have another sneezing fit.

“This looks amazing. Thank you, Doctor Lecter.”, Will said and stepped aside. The psychiatrist nodded and entered the house. By the looks of the living room, Will hadn’t been sleeping in his bed. His pack was resting around the couch with their tails wagging happily. Normally when the psychiatrist visited, he would bring the dogs something but, this visit wasn’t going to be long. He went into the kitchen to find a suitable vase for the snapdragons. Snapdragons were often displays of desire or pleasure but their smell was delicate and would provide Will’s house with a nice aroma.

Personally, he wanted to see Will’s true skin underneath the cover-up. He spent all of his times snacking on aspirin like candy, huddled with his dogs out in the middle of nowhere, and distant to all other human life.

With his biological status as being the “submissive” species, it was no wonder that Will tried to blockade himself from the crowd. He was attractive physically and many eyes followed him on numerous occasions, which irked Hannibal on some level. Yet Will never complained about his designated role.

As a matter of fact, Will never seemed to be bothered with his monthly cycles or the symptoms that followed: emotional, constant eating or lack of, or even hormonal changes.

Hannibal watched Will eat the soup with a budding sense of responsibility. Though Will was capable of maintaining his physical health, Hannibal worried more about Will’s mental health which he was currently grooming. The more dependent Will was on Hannibal, the more he could foster the sickly blossoming flower within his core. He kept that idea under a smirk as Will finished eating and went into the kitchen to rinse out the container. It took an expert hand to garden men and Hannibal had the expertise to make Will truly his counterpart.

 

“--You didn’t come all this way to bring me soup and flowers did you, Doctor Lecter?”, Will asked, taking his seat again in front of Hannibal.

The psychiatrist, puzzled by the questioned, simply smiled and sat up straighter in the chair. He cared for Will’s health and especially enjoyed cooking for his friends but, did Will truly see past the persona? Perhaps his coddling had been obsessive these last few days but it was normal for friends to care about one another.

“I figured showing my charity to your illness will help your recovery process. I didn’t mean to intrude on your solitude. If you prefer, I shall take my leave.”, Hannibal replied, his eloquence well-prominent in his word choice.

The profiler shook his head.

“I’m not kicking you out, Doctor Lecter--”

“Please, call me Hannibal.”

“Hannibal, you can leave whenever you please. I am grateful that you even thought about showing up.”

Calling Doctor Lecter by his first name felt foreign on Will’s lips. They were friends, or so he hoped, but it never felt right to actually call him ‘Hannibal’. He was much older and Will figured the title was a sign of respect. It had been a nice visit overall and Will couldn’t deny Hannibal’s caring actions.

“Anything for a dear friend, William.”

**A dear friend indeed…**


	2. A Bouquet Of Belladonna (A Bouquet of Silence)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel finds himself in prison and relies on Hannibal's "kindness" to set him free. Yet his twin gives him no mercy and leaves him in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❀ Triggers: Domestic Abuse, Strong Language, References To Body Horror ❀ Please be careful! ❀
> 
> { Not Beta-Read }
> 
> I might be able to do a chapter every 2 or 3 days if I'm lucky. Please bear with me that school is ending and I need to keep my grades up !

Chapter Two

A Bouquet Of Dead Belladonna  
(A Bouquet of Silence)

The first draw of blood, the shrill scream, and now a woman lying on the kitchen floor. Nigel lit another cigarette and smoked it for a few moments, extinguished it, then restarted the process. The blood dripping from his knuckles didn’t bother him, neither did the scratches on his arms and face. He didn’t register the pain -- His body was so used to it that it Nigel no longer knew the definition. No matter how many lines of coke he snorted off a striper’s ass or how many gunshots he pulled from his body, Nigel was internally numb. That was ok. Nigel was ok with the numbness. He came to terms with his feelings. Yet Gabi was his world and now his world was on the marble floor, sobbing, and in pieces.

This hadn’t been the first time they fought -- most of the time the heated anger turned to sweet pleasure but, it never turned violent. Nigel was never compelled towards violence but he no longer felt his own pain or anyone elses.

The badman didn’t resist when the officers barged into his loft, threw him to the ground, and snapped handcuffs around his wrists. He only heard the paramedics talk to Gabi and assist her onto a stretcher.

_“I’m so sorry darling...”_

The next few hours were agonizing, Nigel paced back and forth in a holding cell, desperately craving nicotine. The jailhouse was crowded beyond belief but officers put Nigel in another cell to avoid an “unruly” incidents. The other cocksuckers weren’t worth the hassle.

Nigel sat back down on the bench and cupped his face in his hands while thinking about his options. He no longer had the “get out of jail” free card (thanks to Charlie fucking Countryman) and Darko wasn’t going to lend him any cash -- The shitlord was a scoundrel anyway. The drug lord’s bail wasn’t something too outrageous but, given his circumstances, he would need a helping hand. The only person that came to mind was his dearly beloved twin; Hannibal.

Nigel smiled at the thought of Hannibal actually writing a check for his bail but, the smile lessened soon after. His pompous fuckwad of a twin wouldn’t even bat his pretty eyelashes towards Nigel’s plight. Ever since they were children, Hannibal had acted like the “ _superior_ ” twin and at any chance he got -- He made sure his twin couldn’t compete against him.

Nigel groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was Hannibal or spend some years in another Bucharest shithole of a prison. He caught a passing guard and demanded a phone call…

~*~

 

Hannibal hardly ever used his phone unless it was regarding a patient. He looked at the caller ID and saw it was something foreign, specifically, Romania. It could only be one person and Hannibal dreaded the person’s existence tenfold. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

“This is Hannibal Lecter speaking.”

“‘Hanni? Is that you, well shit on me--I thought I was calling the queen of England.”, the familiar swears of his infamous twin was vulgar to Hannibal’s ears. He pursed his lips and debated whether he should hang up the phone.  
  
“Nigel, it’s a surprise. You hardly ever call me.”  
  
“I got to make this quick, I only get five minutes.”

Five minutes? Hannibal walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter. Nigel must have been incarcerated again yet this was the only time he actually called him from prison. His crime must’ve been grand and Hannibal didn’t want no part of Nigel’s schemes.  
  
“Listen Hanni...I know you hate me and shit but I seriously need your help. Could you just fucking wire me twenty-grand so I can bail out of this shithole?”, asked Nigel, which sounded more like begging in Hannibal’s ears.

  
He purred at the thought of his inferior twin’s plights and considered the thought. Perhaps Nigel finally learned that dogs like him needed to be beaten into submission in order to please their masters.

“I could, dear brother. Are you ready to admit you’re incapable of living a positive lifestyle?”, Hannibal sneered.

There was a pause.

“Are you fucking kidding me, you pompous cocksucker? You can go fuck yourself on the nearest rusty pole for all I care!”

That’s what Hannibal thought. Nigel was never going to repent and settle for the more conservative and solid life he cultivated since teenhood.

“Then I guess you’re going to be a singing jailbird.”

Hannibal hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Nigel was nothing more than a menace and deserved none of the blood pumping through his veins. Hannibal hated the fact that they were two of the same by flesh and blood. His twin was a disgusting mutt and needed to be euthanized before it goes completely rabid.

_Yet the same could be said for himself…_

~*~

Nigel slammed the phone against the receiver and nearly lost it. How dare Hannibal be so fucking selfish? What kind of sibling just leaves one of their own out in the fucking cold? An officer wrenched him away from the phone booth and dragged him back down to the holding cells. Nigel didn’t even care anymore and lashed out at the scrawny fucker. It was the officer’s fault for not putting him back in handcuffs. Nigel wailed on him until two brutish looking officers tackled him to the ground and managed to get a pair of handcuffs on his wrists.

 _So this is how silence truly sounds_ , Nigel still tried to fight the officers as they rushed him down the hall, _dead silence is such a lonely sound…_

~*~

Will watched while Beverly, Zeller, and Price carefully pluck the wrinkled, dead petals of belladonna within a corpse. His sinuses was improving slightly but he stayed far enough away from the petals being extracted. The corpse once been some fair woman but now she was another masterpiece from the Chesapeake Ripper’s galleria (or his copycats). There were no arms or legs, the torso had been split in a ‘Y’ form, and just a bunch of belladonna stuck between organs and ribs. Surprisingly, no organs had been snatched which made Will consider if it was the Ripper or his many imitators. The most interesting detail on the latest victim was that her mouth was stitched. Perhaps the Ripper didn’t have a need for her mouth or thought silence was fitting for her.

Crawford had came into the examination room prior to Will’s arrival but left shortly after to care for his wife. It wasn’t surprising. Alphas had that protective urge that never seemed to be sated even if their Omegas were right next to them. That was fine with Will, he didn’t want Crawford breathing down his neck 24/7.

The forensics teeth plucked petal out the corpse and patted each other on the back. Will took a step closer and carefully picked up a belladonna petal. Belladonna's were deadly nightshades and closely symbolized silence. The Chesapeake Ripper wanted silence but from whom?

Will ran over the thought over and over again till he started to feel another migraine and stepped off to the side. He popped some aspirin and returned to the scene. He couldn’t empathize with the victim on some levels but he knew what silence sounded like. It was like someone winding up the spring in your back and watching you go, till you needed to be wound up again. Will’s parents had been distant and uncaring, especially when they found out their only son had been the “submissive” species. It wasn’t such an abnormal thing in modern times but his parents thought he was a freak of nature. He wasn’t the only child to be disowned by his family because of his “omega” status. In reality, Will was fine with whatever was given -- It was better than being dead.

Ironic because there was a corpse in front of him.

The profiler grew tired of Katz’s and Zeller’s bickering and left the scene. He went all the way to his car before he finally took a breather. His phone started to vibrate and he looked at the caller.

It was Hannibal.

Will answered the phone while trying to find his keys.

“Hello Hannibal.”

 

“Hello to you too, William. If it isn’t an inconvenience, would you care to join me for dinner tonight?”

“What time?”

“Seven as usual.”

“I would love to come. I’ll see you then.”

  
“Goodbye, William.”

Will hung up the phone and started his car. Hannibal, besides being a trusted friend, was always generous towards Will. It wasn’t like Will had any other plans other than avoid Crawford at all costs. Dinner would be a subtle change and beneficial towards his friendship with Hannibal.

_**He was his most trusted friend...** _


	3. A Bouquet Of Bouvardia (A Bouquet of Enthusiasm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will's dinner proceeds rather smoothly until Will's discomfort becomes the best of him and he leaves. Nigel is finally able to get out of jail and is still willing to hunt the woman who put him behind bars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❁ Trigger Warning(s): Explicit Language, References to Domestic Abuse, ❁ Please be careful ! ❁
> 
> This is a really short update because I had nothing else to write \\(uwu)/  
> Enjoy {Not Beta-Read}
> 
> Google Docs really likes to screw up my format /:

Chapter Three

A Bouquet Of Bouvardia   
(A Bouquet of Enthusiasm)

Dinner ran rather smoothly, Hannibal and Will enjoyed their each other’s company while making idle small talk. While Hannibal was fond with the topics being discussed, Will seemed to be less talkative and more focused on his plate. The profiler wasn’t much of a talker anyway -- Hannibal wasn’t either.

Yet watching Will eat made Hannibal salivate, the profiler didn’t realize how captivating he looked when he devoured flesh. Every slip of liver Will placed in his mouth nearly made the psychiatrist double over at the sight.

Will must’ve caught Hannibal’s stare and stopped eating, setting his fork down on his plate but, seemingly surprised by the psychiatrist’s wandering eye. Perhaps it wasn’t anything but a simple glance but, Will felt warm under the collar anyway.

“Excellent meal, Hannibal. I’m really enjoying this.”, Will said, looking at Hannibal underneath his eyelashes.

“I’m glad you do, William.”

Will smiled a little and resumed eating. He didn’t understand why he was feeling nervous around Hannibal but, something didn’t settle right in his stomach.

Of all people why would Hannibal Lecter show such compassion and interest?

There wasn’t anything special about Will -- He wasn’t the embodiment of a physical god or wasn’t the most stable in the bunch. He’s average and someone like Hannibal wouldn’t even look his way yet, the psychiatrist took time out of his own life tending to Will’s every need. The profiler teared up a little and the psychiatrist noticed.  
  


“Shall I end dinner to make a remedy?”, Lecter suggested.

  
“No sorry, it’s just my allergies.”, Will lied

Lecter pursed his lips but, he didn’t imply any further on Will’s seasonal allergies. In a way it was a relief because Will already felt he was taking alot from Hannibal’s time. He really wanted to go home so he didn’t seem so needy.

“I’m really sorry. I should be getting home.”, Will said, excusing himself from the table.

Lecter rose from his seat in one graceful motion and offered his hand. Will hesitated but grasped Hannibal’s hand, shaking once, twice, three times, then let go. He was walked to the door where Hannibal draped his coat over him.

“Again, thank you for dinner.”

“Anything you need William, ask me.”, Hannibal replied warmly, stepping aside to open the front door. Will brushed past him and he inhaled, the smell was absolutely profound. It was a aroma of fresh honeydew and peony yet there was a slight taint that made Hannibal exhale.

It would take a little more coddling and temperament in order for Hannibal to finally have Will adjust to his actions. Showering the Omega with gifts of charity or simple dinners would open up pathways but, it was going to take more than flowers and fine wine to become Will’s significant other. Lecter made a mental note to make sure his next victim was grossly extravagant.

“Good night, William.”

 

~*~

Will fled the house and down the steps, into his car, where he could finally face-plant into the steering wheel. He was flushed and drained. It was just an innocent dinner yet Will was sweating and feeling distressed -- The same feeling he had when he shot Hobbs. It took weeks to finally come to terms with the outcome; Hobbs was dead and there’s nothing that can bring him back.

There was no point dwelling on it, Will started up his car and drove out the driveway, checking his side view mirror, and seeing Hannibal was still standing on the porch.

_He’s just been a really good friend..._

~*~

Darko had finally posted his bail and Nigel was back in his shitty night club. As much as he hated Darko’s sneaky ass guts, Nigel was a tad bit grateful the shitlord decided to pay his bail. He had a few weeks of anger managment, another court hearing, and possible further altercations down the road but, at least he wasn’t rotting in a jail cell. Over time, he hoped he could apologize to his beloved Gabi, if she didn’t file a restraining order or leave the country. Wherever Gabi fled to,

**Nigel would track her down.**

No matter how many fuckwads he had to shoot, the drug lord wasn’t going to let his sweet angel fly away. He enjoyed the hunt and prey never left his jaws, he was the lion amongst the cattle, an expert in the primal, and the only one Gabi could ever love. Charlie fucking Countryman may have been a fling but Nigel didn’t take lightly to cocksuckers who stuck their cocks in places that didn’t belong to them. Gabi was too precious and didn't deserve anything Charlie had to give her.

_Angels like Gabi didn’t deserve dogs like Charlie, they never do._

_**Yet those angels don’t deserve demons like Nigel.** _


	4. A Bouquet Of Nettles (A Bouquet of Cruelty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel finally gets his sweet ambrosia-like revenge at the cost of something precious. Will heads out on another crime scene while approaching hormonal changes sprout like dandelions. Hannibal decides to finally become his brother's "savior"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update ― Haven't been feeling so well. I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> Triggers: Mentions of body horror/gore, explicit language, mentions of death/serious amounts of blood.
> 
> Please be careful ❀❀❀

Chapter Four

A Bouquet of Nettles  
(A Bouquet of Cruelty)

❝Everything will be alright, he assures her

But she doesn't hear a word that he say

Preoccupied, she's afraid

Afraid what they've been doing's not right

He doesn't know what to say, so he prays

Whatever, whatever, whatever

Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand❞

― Whatever Happens by Michael Jackson

 

~*~

Gabi thought she had fled Limbo’s grasps but, she only delved deeper. She had dragged Charlie down with her -- His body started to cool on the marble tile in the hotel room’s bathroom. Gabi on the other hand, was still much alive, only she couldn’t scream but just choke and gurgle on her own blood. Nigel had left her on floor but, his wicked hunt wasn’t finished. He straddled her torso and ran his fingers through her slick red hair.

“―You played a dangerous fucking game with me, Gabi.”, he cooed, watching the life out of emerald eyes flicker.

“Perhaps you’ll be more fucking careful with your cards.”

Nigel didn’t issue the finishing blow, he wasn’t about mercy. He simply gave Gabi one last kiss on her forehead and got off of her. There was no point ― Gabi died the moment she met Charlie fucking Countryman.

Nigel wiped the blood off his face, neck, and hands in the bathroom, paying no attention to Charlie’s body,  feeling like the weight of world was finally lifted off his shoulders. He took one last glance at Charlie and spat.

“—I never fucking liked you…”

 

~*~ 

 

The drug lord slipped out of the hotel and into a dark vehicle, one of Darko’s drivers was behind the wheel, and made it back to the strip club. He had a few lines, had a couple strippers, and finally silence.

_The damn silence._

It became unnerving as hours dragged on and on. Nigel nearly lost his mind, his cocaine drive slowly fading, and the realization that he’d actually killed his fucking wife. She was his fucking everything and he just left her to die. Nigel flipped furniture over, punched holes in the wall, and nearly set his apartment on fire. The guilt was burning him alive and it engulfed his lungs, charring them black, suffocating and taking every breath. The cocaine lingering in his system burnt out and he was left with that desolate feeling in his belly.

Nigel collapsed against the wall and slid down to the floor, his face cupped between his hands.

“—Oh fuck...Gabi, my fucking angel.”, he sobbed pathetically, wiping globs of tears away. It’d been ages since he’s cried — His job didn’t require to feel sorry or show emotion but, Gabi, gods, she didn't deserve it. He shouldn't have killed her let alone fucking marry her. She didn’t deserve those chains around her wings or her cracked halo.

Nigel somewhat gathered himself and picked up his phone. He dialed a number while calming himself internally. If there was one person who may still care, Nigel would have to put himself at the mercy of one last person. He held the phone up to his ear and listened to the rings.

“Hannibal? I fucked up, I really fucked up this time…”

 

~*~

 

Will stood underneath the umbrella Alana had with her and tried his best to wipe the sweat drooling down his face. It wasn’t blistering hot but, he felt as if he was cooking in his skin. His throat felt like he’d been swallowing ash, his body ached all over, and in all honesty — He could care less about this crime scene. Crawford could bicker whether it was the Ripper or a copycat all day long but, Graham was already done with his shit. Alana noticed his condition and kindly laid her hand on his shoulder.  
  
“—Do you want me to take you home?”, she asked. Her smile could make person melt and Will had to hide his flush with the handkerchief he was using.

Even if he wanted to go back home, Crawford would chew him out the next morning. Will declined the offer and got out of his blazer, the material was becoming uncomfortable. The park Crawford had dispatched the entire team at was surrounded by pines, oaks, and a few maples but, the newest victim was buried within a cluster of nettles. The field investigators were careful not to touch the nettles because of their painful skin reactions.

The victim looked to be a young male with his arms split down the middle, stuffed with bloodied marigolds and dandelions, similar to the last victim. If the Ripper was becoming a florist, he needed to invest in another “vase” for his flowers.

“—Why do you think the Ripper is using flowers, Will?”, Alana asked, pointing at the flowers.

Will shrugged.

“Perhaps he has a green thumb.”

Alana chuckled softly and shifted the umbrella into her other hand.

“What’s next? Petunias?”

“Let’s hope not — My allergies are already bad.”

The two conversed for a little longer till Crawford pulled Will closer to the crime scene and was forced to enter that subspace. The profile counted his breaths slowly and distanced himself from reality. The victim was Adrian Everett, a nutrition coach at a local Baltimore gym, hardly someone to become the Chesapeake Ripper’s victim. He’d been jogging through the park when something blindsided him, sending him tumbling into the low ditch, and his unfaithful demise. The Ripper had quickly subdued him with a quick slit of the throat. Once the life was drained from his body, he cut the marigolds from their stems and slit the arms from the shoulders.

Marigolds were normally used to symbolize affection and sometimes sorrow but, the nettles almost had a sense of cruelty behind them. They were prickly plants that left bad rashes when touched yet the Ripper decided to include them in his work.

 _What kind of sorrow led to the Ripper’s cruelty? Did the Ripper know someone’s cruelty and it forced sorrow?_ That was impossible — The Ripper didn’t care much for any of his victims or other human life.

Will exhaled deeply and took several steps away from Jason’s body. Crawford glanced at him and looked back towards the scene. Will decided he would prefer Alana to take him home.

_Whose cruelty was the Ripper trying to display…?_

 

~*~

 

Hannibal listened to his brother’s desperate pleas till the late night hours, slightly phased, but remained on his guard. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Nigel — It was his lifestyle that couldn’t be trusted. Hannibal, though now older and more excelled in life, always had that superiority complex to his twin and now that Nigel was finally at his mercy, he could finally reform his brother. Nigel wouldn’t like much of his brother’s decisions but, it was the best.

Nigel had hung up after Hannibal somewhat agreed to offer assistance. There was going to be complications. as long as Nigel stayed to his ways. Especially now that Hannibal was considering courtship and keeping his persona underneath the sheets, he wasn't willing to lose either of those to Nigel’s distasteful choices.

_Blood is thicker than water, as they say, and it didn’t mean Hannibal would choose water instead._

 


	5. A Bouquet Of Hydrangea (A Bouquet of Gratitude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has to deal with his body's natural cycle and Hannibal is more than willing to aid. Hannibal implies he may want to be more intimate with Will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { Please don't bother me -- I may not update till another weekend. }  
> Triggers: None :) Be happy & safe
> 
> * I had no idea what I was doing with this chapter. Not beta-read *
> 
> * I've read alot of A/B/O dynamic stories and really havent found any where it talks about Omegas (specifically males) go through menstrual cycles. Heat cycles are common (of course) but, I added the period thing within the story as well. In the future, I will probably make Omegas more relatable to females in terms of biology. *

Chapter Five

A Bouquet Of Hydrangea  
(A Bouquet of Gratitude)

~*~

Again, Will covered himself with every blanket in the house and kept a ice pack on his head. He was boiling from head to toe, uncomfortable between his legs, and the urge to break heads. His dogs had kept their distance as if they could sense their master’s distress. Will didn’t blame them -- He was an absolute wreck. Times of the month weren’t pleasant for anyone. Bleeding, discomfort, and the damn natural urges kept Will hiding from the world. Crawford was somewhat understanding due to his own wife’s cycles but, it was becoming “problematic” because the Ripper was killing faster than flowers sprouting after spring rain. Will couldn’t apologize for his biology but, he was damn sure he was getting off days for it.

Alana had been nice enough to leave toiletries and a few relaxation items but, they were all in vain. Will went through most of the toiletries in a few hours and wasn’t mobile to go get his own. This is where shit hit the fan. Will felt around his “blanket cocoon” for his cellphone, wrapped his fingers around it, and unlocked it. He started dialing the number of one person who wouldn’t take it personally in his time of need.

_Ring. Ring. Ring._

Will drummed his fingers against his thigh as he listened to the dial tone. His situation was so dire that if his “guardian angel” didn’t answer, he might as well burn in hell for the next week.

“Hello William.”, Doctor Lecter’s voice nearly made Will scream with joy.

“Hello Hannibal, how are you? God, it’s great to hear your voice. Listen, can you do me a small favor?”, the profiler asked, nervousness and urgency slipping through the pleasantries.

“Anything you need William, I will make it happen.”

Hannibal’s eagerness to aid Will sounded more like a cliche ‘prince-and-princess’ story. Will took a deep breath.

“I need some hygienic products, you know?”  
There was a short pause and Will knew he had finally pushed the limited between his friendship with Hannibal. He wanted to hang the phone up but, Lecter would’ve found that rude.

“I don’t mind obtaining the toiletries you need. If it makes you more comfortable, William, I understand how difficult it is during your natural cycle.”, Hannibal responded.

It gave Will a little bud of relief that Hannibal didn’t reject him or say something disgustingly vile. Not too many Alphas, whether they were in a relationship or not, would buy Omega products. Not only that, Hannibal seemed rather happy to actually fetch these things.

“Hannibal, thank you, like seriously. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Like I said, I’ll do anything that brings you comfort during this time.”

Just like that, Hannibal hung up and Will could finally steal back the breath that escaped his lungs. He tossed his phone aside and squeezed the nearest pillow between his arms. A man like Hannibal only came from fairytales or romance movies. He was so attentive towards Will’s needs (not that he needed too much), very open to Will’s decisions, and proved to be a very valuable friend.

Perhaps too attentive, Will thought but quickly discarded the ideation. Will needed friends like Hannibal to keep him from diving head first into the pits of Hell. He made sure he was stable after every gruesome crime scene.

In all honesty, Will would’ve been dead without Hannibal’s hand.

The profiler pushed his blankets aside and waddled to the bathroom, his dogs trailed behind him but, they were quickly dispatched by the closed door. Will stripped out of his sweaty damn clothes and turned on the shower, testing the water with his hands, then finally climbing in.

The water worked wonders on his aching body, Will stood in the shower while running his hands amongst his shoulders and torso. The pain in his lower belly slightly numbed but, it was still uncomfortable seeing the red run down towards the drain. It reminded him how badly he needed Hannibal to deliver his toiletries. _How badly he depended on Hannibal for everything…_

__

~*~

Hannibal had been ecstatic when Will asked for the favor. He quickly canceled two of his afternoon appointments to tend to Will’s needs, standing in a supermarket looking over several types of toiletries, amused with himself that he couldn’t even tell the difference between the different kids. Will didn’t disclose what type he needed but, Hannibal wasn’t going to take any chances. He grabbed a few sanitary pads, wipes, and the infamous box of tampons. He looked down at the contents in his basket and took in a deep inhale.

A few Omega women and a man stared at him from down the aisle and he proceeded to check out, he needed no applause or medals, he was simply buying toiletries. Many felt in this society that Omegas were suppose to be these ethereal beings with supreme beauty. Yet they crinkle their nose if an Omega dared to reveal his or her own “natural phases”. Hannibal had found society’s view childish and disgusting. He paid for the contents and left the store, making a mental note to pay the obnoxious clerk a visit, and drove for Wolf’s Trap.

On the way, he stopped at a local florist and purchased a bouquet of hydrangea. The bright blue-lavender flowers smelled wonderful and would boost Will’s mood. His cellphone started to ring but he didn’t answer it. If it was the person he thought it was, the person was going to have to wait.

~*~

Will sat near the window while looking out the blinds, impatient and very jittery. His dogs had been let out and they roamed about, eating more of the sprouts of grass, and whatever else laid in their path. His bleeding hadn;t ceased and Will was sure he soaked through his pad and underwear. A towel underneath him felt as if it was damp but, he was sure it was just the pool of sweat underneath his thighs. From the corner of his eye he could see that black Bentley pull into the driveway. Will vaulted over the couch and went straight for the door, his shaky fingers clicking the lock and turning the knob. Hannibal appeared out of his car with a small plastic bag in one hand and another flower bouquet sitting on top of the car. Will mentally groaned and made himself relax.

~*~

“William.”, Hannibal greeted, taking the bouquet off the car and approaching the front steps. Will smiled slightly and eyed the plastic bag. The psychiatrist sensed the urgency and handed the bag to the profiler, a budding sense of accomplishment filled his belly. Will didn’t pay no mind to the bouquet yet Hannibal cared no less, in retrospect, he was just beyond thankful to see William another time. He clenched his jaw and had to keep himself from salivating. What he smelled was absolutely _beyond_ any words. It wasn’t the hydrangea or the fresh spring rain coating the plant life, it came off Will’s body. Like a mixture of sweet wine, spice, and something Hannibal couldn’t name. His chest felt tight and he had to keep himself from shifting.

“Thank you so much, Hannibal. Sorry I’m not exactly dressed…”, Will meekly apologized.

Hannibal shook his head and stood in front of Will, grabbing both of his hands within his own, and kneeling down. The profiler quickly grew flustered and looked away nervously. The bag of toiletries sat untended on the floorboards of the porch.

“Dear William, your needs come before my own. I care for you deeply and would never think of you less.”, Hannibal announced.

“Hannibal is this really necessary? You just bought me pads, you didn’t buy me the tower of Pisa.”, Will retorted, taking his hands back from Will. The psychiatrist chuckled and got back on his feet.

“I suppose not.”

“If I didn’t know better, I say you were trying to declare your love for me, Hannibal.”, Will coyly said, picking up his products.

Clever boy.

“Oh William, you would know if I was interested enough to court you.”

With that, Hannibal took his leave and Will called for his dogs, retreating back into the safety of his home and into the bathroom. He changed out of his pants and into a fresh pad. He buried back into the blankets and now with the extra warmth of his pack. Hannibal was a reliable friend but, Will didn't see him as anything else. If Hannibal wanted to pursue this kind of relationship, he may want to search in other waters...

 


	6. A Bouquet Of Begonia (A Bouquet to Be Wary Of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will recovers from his week-long cycle and comes face to face with another killer's work. Nigel arrives in the United States and takes notice of an interesting admirer. Hannibal comes to know an admirer of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✿✿ Finally pushed out another update even though I didn't try so hard. So for the lateness and poor quality of these latest chapters.  
> School is almost out for summer break ! ✿✿  
> Trigger Warnings: Body Horror, Blood & Gore, Descriptive mentions of death  
> Be safe & happy  
> ✿ Story is almost over ! Just a few more chapters !  
> Not beta-read

Chapter Six  
A Bouquet Of Begonia  
(A Bouquet To Be Wary Of)

 

 

Will recovered enough to answer Crawford’s calls about another crime scene. The newest one didn’t involve flowers or other plant life and that made Will even more compliant. He drove to some opera house in Baltimore and waited for Crawford to start barking orders at him. The stage belonged to Will once the officers present noticed his presence and left the scene. The profiler stood in front of Douglas Wilson, his mangled flesh a fleshy pink color, resembling the throat of a cello.

His vocal chords acted as the strings as if someone wanted to play him but, their was a flaw in their design. Will stood behind the victim and lightly hovered his fingers over the open flesh. He took a deep inhale, exhale, and closed his eyes. In the back of his mind he could hear long, beautiful notes being strung from this cello but, something didn’t feel right. The chords were too fragile and broke easily under bow’s stroke. Will tried again to cast the same note and fell short. The artisan of this design had _miscalculated_ his masterpiece. The instrument couldn’t be played.

The profiler pulled himself free from the visualization and heard clapping, slow and hollow-sounding claps. When his eyes gazed the numerous rows of seats, he caught the visage of a monster he long ago spurred from the garden of “Eden”. Hobbs with his necrotic flesh, venomous smile, and the most heinous look on his face. Will looked away and the same maniacal laughter that once haunted his dreams and terrorized his conscious echoed in the opera room.

—“Look at you, Graham. _You thought I was the monster_?”

Will quickly crossed the stage and down the aisle, feeling Hobb’s eyes staring him down till he went out the double doors. He exhaled loudly and was pushed aside by officers and field investigators. He couldn’t see or hear Hobbs anymore so he calmed. Crawford appeared with Katz, Price, and Zeller trailing behind him, all four of them looking like they hadn’t seen a bed in years. Will braced himself for a verbal lashing from Crawford but, judging from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t going to even whisper.

“It’s been a long week without you here, Will.”, Beverly chimed, surprisingly more “awake” than her colleagues. Will shrugged his shoulders. “Well, we couldn’t have you adding more blood to a crime scene.”

The profiler took note of Katz failed attempt of a joke and turned away. Zeller and Price looked at each other and Katz seethed behind them both, having already upset her friend, she quietly apologized. Crawford yelled for Will to come back but his prized profiler rejected, exiting the opera house and back out to the street.

He wasn’t going to head back to Wolf’s Trap because Crawford would’ve had every officer set up a roadblock to prevent his departure. Instead, he walked down the somewhat busy street to the nearest coffee-selling cafe. He ordered a straight black cup and sat the furthest way he could from the window. The cafe was dead other than the few patrons idly chatting at the window seats. Will sipped his coffee and ignored the strong blandness. From the corner of his eye, he spotted another person enter the cafe (who wasn’t law enforcement).

He took another glance and recognized the platinum hair Hannibal possessed but, somewhat felt it wasn’t Hannibal. This person’s hair wasn’t slicked back and the attire worn wasn’t anything Hannibal would be caught dead in. A pale blue polo with dogs printed all over it, leather pants that looked too tight, and what looked like a panther tattooed on bronzed skin. Will tried to make the man out yet the only image that popped in his head was Hannibal and he was damn sure it wasn’t him. When the person turned around, Will quickly pinned his eyes down to the table. He happened to glance one more time and caught maroon eyes wink at him then the man left the cafe.

The profiler became flustered and hid behind his cup of coffee. He was beyond baffled — There was a saying that ‘seven people in the world could be your doppleganger’ yet that was too uncanny. That man had everything that resembled Doctor Lecter and it didn’t settle right with Will.

He finished his coffee and walked back to the opera house parking lot, successfully avoiding Crawford and his “vagabond” group of officers. He got into his car and drove back home…

~*~

Nigel had grown fond of the American lifestyle; sporting events, food, and the manner of life. He had rented a sports car and was surprised when at the turn of night, he could attract many to flock in his follies. Yet nobody he had met could’ve replace the woman he used to adore. The drug lord sipped his drink while messaging his beloved twin of his location. Hannibal hadn’t been entirely happy that his arrival was so swift but, Nigel would hate to keep him waiting. It was an elaborate coup d’etat to get Hannibal to open up just enough for Nigel — using his infamous ‘you’re the big brother and I need your help’ moves. The emotion he had then wasn’t a falsehood either — He couldn’t live without his dear Gabi but he was the one who put her into an early grave. He could never forgive himself for that atrocity.

What did caught his eye in the cafe was his _admirer_. The man wasn’t unattractive but there was something about him that made Nigel even more _curious_. He looked over his shoulder while he was walking and there was no sign of his admirer following him.

 _What a shame_ , Nigel mused playfully and discarded his empty cup, _perhaps he wanted an autograph_.

Nigel got into his car and started the engine. He still had a few more hours of daylight to burn and he wasn’t going to spend it loathing on strangers.

~*~

“He’s been telling me very dark things lately, Doctor Lecter. Very dark things.”, Franklyn announced, fidgeting with his tie as his eyes drifted away from Hannibal’s.

The psychiatrist pursed his lips and crossed his leg, obviously uninterested in whatever Franklyn had to say. His mind was wandering about his declaration to Will just a week ago. He had been too sudden in his methods and that one incident could jeopardize his entire plan. He fumed underneath his composure and had to bite the inside of his cheeks to stop himself from screaming.

“I’m really worried about Tobias. Can psychopaths feel each other? You know like when animals sense danger?”

Hannibal glared at Franklyn which may have startled the man but, took a deep breath and exhaled. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sat straight in his chair.

“Franklyn, I dare not to repeat myself. You’re not a psychopath. You’re simply attracted to them, that is all it’s ever going to be.”, Hannibal stated. “And if you were a psychopath, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

His patient seemed discouraged with the response but accepted it, gathering himself, and shaking Doctor Lecter’s hand. Hannibal flared his nostrils at the feel of Mr. Froidevaux’s oily hand in his own hand. He quickly escorted him out and didn’t even regard Franklyn’s last goodbyes.

Hannibal wiped his hands with one of his handkerchiefs and sat at his desk. His mind still was traveling all the possibilities to renew his good standing with Will Graham yet all the solutions he came up with wouldn’t be pleasant for neither of them. The attempt would be malicious and frankly, Hannibal wasn’t ready to dispose his feelings for Will.

Shall there be a day when they must part, Hannibal would leave Will mangled, beaten, and absolutely annihilated, at the cost of his own self-preservation.

Knocks at his office door tethered him from his thoughts and he answered it, quite surprise at his next visitor. A tall, chiseled, umber colored man dressed in grey and blue waited patiently in the lobby. He smiled when Hannibal stood in the doorway.

“Doctor Lecter.”

“Yes? May I ask whom I am acknowledging?”, Lecter replied politely, gesturing for his visitor to step inside his office.

“ _Tobias Budge_.”


	7. A Bouquet Of Tiger Lily (A Bouquet of Pride)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal invites Franklyn and Tobias over dinner while calculating the means to exterminate them both while Will investigates the latest crime scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤ Finally updated! And my last day school is over! Thank you @madnizilla for looking over my work! You're precious! ❤  
> Trigger Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood and gore  
> Be safe & happy
> 
> ~Thanks for reading.

Chapter Seven

A Bouquet of Tiger Lily

(A Bouquet of Pride)

Hannibal saw Tobias as nothing more but a _pretender_ , a _nobody_ , a _walking embodiment of failure_. He could smell the putrid smell of “alphaness”off him and frankly it made his nostrils flare. Like a mixture of rotting food and decay, it was absolutely repulsive to Hannibal’s palette. 

Tobias had made idle chat about his work and even mentioned Franklyn, which self-consciously Hannibal knew the man didn’t care for someone like dear Franklyn. There was few attributes someone would like within Franklyn, perhaps his gullibleness, but, Hannibal knew Tobias wouldn’t need something like that from Franklyn. No, he needed Franklyn’s consent whether the man wanted to give it or not. _Perhaps Franklyn knew more about Tobias than Hannibal implied._

“He’s been telling me very dark things lately, Doctor Lecter. Very dark things...”, Hannibal heard Franklyn’s concern rattle and echo through his head.

_What was Tobias hiding behind polite gestures and small talk? What kind of beast was being soothed by soft notes drawn from its violin?_

__

It was a short visit but it wasn’t meaningless. Tobias was sizing up his competition and Hannibal did not like to be judged like some prized pig. He took note to have the other younger Alpha skewered alive once the time seemed right. Whoever Mr. Budge thought he was other than a musician, he was deathly wrong. Hannibal didn’t take matters, especially ones that would compromise his freedom, lightly. He came to the decision Mr. Budge had to be exterminated and soon.

~*~

Will couldn’t avoid Crawford entirely but, he knew of methods to keep his distance. He did his lectures and quickly fled whenever the man pushed his way through the swarm of students. He made sure to hide his car in the parking lot, or take his lunch somewhere off Quantico, and even get Katz to cover for him. He was too strained to have Crawford pile another case.

A killer at a time, Will always reminded himself yet, killers plagued every inch of his mind, underneath his eyelids when he blinked, and beside him like a lingering spirit. They were the coats that hung snug on his shoulders whenever he felt cold or the hands strangling him when his breath felt short.

Will learned to embrace every killer with open arms into his most private areas. He would arch his back and bear his neck to feel their teeth graze every inch of his flesh, marking it as their own. He craved to feel that sickly ecstasy he’s been trained to love.

This time he only heard soft music that was melodic but in a way, tuned something dark in the midst of the symphony. Like a rising crescendo, the notes pounded and vibrated against Will’s skull. The bow of a violin slashing against his throat, earning his strangled cries, as if he could make the notes this killer desired. He was a broken instrument and his notes were sour and distasteful to the ears. The bow of the violin drew back and found its way deep within Will’s side, twisting and churning, making his intestines feel like puddy. Will caved under the intensity and hit the floor of the lecture hall, luckily, nothing was under him that would cause bodily harm. His students was long gone yet the double doors opened and Crawford came inside. He saw Will scramble to get off the floor and make himself presentable.

He didn’t question why Will was on the floor.  
  
“Will.”, he said. “What do you know about violins?”

Was Crawford joking? Judging by the stalwart expression plastered on Crawford’s face, Will thought not. He straightened himself and shrugged his shoulders.  
  
“They’re instruments.”, he replied. “People play them.”

“I know they’re instruments, Will.”, Crawford hissed. The profiler internally flinched and went around his desk, taking a seat. Crawford sighed and took a few paces forward.

“I know that a violin is an instrument but,. what is the violin’s strings made of?”

“Metal, usually. Some classical violins may be made from cat intestines? Wait, isn’t this a question for Katz, Zeller, or Price?”, Will retorted.

Crawford furrowed his brows and Will sensed the irritation steaming off his Alpha counterpart, seething down in his seat and casting his eyes into his lap.

“That’s all I needed to know.”

_Jack left the lecture room while Will recollected himself at his desk..._

~*~

The dinner invite was clichè but, it served its purpose very well. Tobias and Franklyn arrived at the same time, possibly together, and Hannibal greeted them both into his home. Franklyn chattered away while Tobias and Hannibal only gave each other cautious looks.

 _To kill a man in his own home would be treacherous and downright vile_ , Tobias must know of that concept. Yet Hannibal felt the scalpel he slipped in his sleeve poke the tip of his finger. _Oh how he craved to dispose of Tobias and Franklyn both but_ , there was a time and place for everything.

Hannibal served dinner a short time later once Tobias and Franklyn was seated, the duo oddly making conversation with one another. A bouquet of fiery orange tiger lilies sat between them and Hannibal sensed Tobias wasn’t too fond of flowers, the other Alpha crinkled his nose at them. On the other hand, Franklyn seemed seduced by such exotic flowers.

Lecter placed Tobias’ dish down first, then Franklyn’s, and finally his own. He took his seat at the front of the table and placed a napkin in his lap. Both the lesser Alphas at his table waited for him to take the first bite, commonly done when there was an elder in the midst. Hannibal slipped a morsel of liver between his lips and chewed. Looking up from his eyelashes, he saw Franklyn and Tobias also partake in their meals. Hannibal grinned knowing that he subjected others into his practice.

“This is really good, Doctor Lecter. Thank you for inviting me.”, Franklyn chimed, swirling a piece of liver around his plate.

Hannibal nodded and wiped the corner of his lips, seeing that Tobias’ eyes had flared with the sudden gesture. In a way Mr. Budge’s behavior resembled a toddler on the verge of a tantrum. Hannibal kept his amusement underneath his polite smile.

“Yes, this meal is quite delicious. I must commend your culinary skills, Doctor Lecter.”, Tobias said.

 _As humble as this evening could’ve been, Mr. Budge, you’ve certainly crossed the line,_ Hannibal forced himself to continue smiling when in reality, he was ready to pounce over the table and gut Tobias. _Yet that would’ve been terribly rude…_

~*~

Dinner finished rather hastily. Hannibal walked Tobias and Franklyn to the door, gathering their coats for them along the way, and making it clear that this wasn’t going to happen ever again. Franklyn had tried his best to excuse his “friend’s” behavior but, it fell on deaf ears. Tobias gave Hannibal one last menacing glare and left with Franklyn trailing on his heels. The psychiatrist waved from the door and watched as their car pulled out of his driveway.

Though dinner had not been pleasant, Tobias looked very promising to dispose of later. He wasn’t worthy to be placed on Lecter’s table, no, his taste would be bitter and wretched. _He didn’t deserve that kind of honor._

 _A walking embodiment of failure_ , Hannibal stalked down his hallway, glancing at his now empty dining table. His first thought was to call William. If anyone could track down the beast in his lair, Will was the knight of honor. Hannibal went into the kitchen and picked up his house phone, dialing Will’s number, and listened to the ringing. His fingers drummed lightly against the counter while he waited. He had never been an impatient person but, he had little to no patience when it came to Will.

Will Graham, a magnificent personification of perfection, and the thorn in Hannibal’s oozing heart. Where Will saw his own imperfections, Hannibal saw marble that could easily be sculpted into statues that even Michelangelo would cry before. He’s never been so attracted towards anyone before, lately, he hadn’t thought about it until he met Will. There was something about the Omega man that made his heart quiver and sing whenever he came near.

When he heard Will’s groggy sounding voice, he nearly lost it again.

“Hannibal? Its kind of late, why are you calling?”

Doctor Lecter would apologize for the inconvenience but, there was no time for small talk.

“William, take my message with extreme caution”, he stated sternly. “Mr. Budge is the virtuoso from the opera house. There’s a music store near your place of work. I suggest you visit Mr. Budge and question his involvement with the latest murder.”

Hannibal hung up without hearing Will’s response. He was simply going to take no sides within the matter. Tobias was a venomous snake in his garden but, it wasn’t his responsibility to get rid of such a pest. Dear William was more than capable of disposing Mr. Budge, like he did with Hobbs.

_More than capable…._

~*~

Will had followed Hannibal’s instructions and walked up the cobbled steps of the music store with two officers in blue behind him. A firearm slumbered patiently in its holster while being hidden underneath Will’s coat layers. He didn’t feel at ease once he opened the shop’s door. The little bell chimed above him and the two officers came around him, both of them posted at Will’s sides. The shop was oddly empty except for the few violins on the displays, a piano off to the side, and various book-filled shelves. It had an ominous feel and Will only tensed even more.

The shop’s owner, Tobias Budge, appeared from another room with a puzzled look on his face. Will dug his badge out of his pocket and flashed it as well as the officers accompanying him. Budge nodded and approached Will, greeting him with a simple handshake, and looking the officers up and down.

“FBI? May I ask why the FBI would visit my humble shop?”, Tobias asked.

“Just a matter of questioning, Mr. Budge. I hope its not an inconvenience?”, Will responded, ordering one officer to stay near the door.

Tobias nodded.

“May I give you a tour while you ask your--”

Will heard the loud yelp and raced out the shop. He crossed the busy street, almost getting hit by a car, and stumbled to the other side, frantically looking for the source of the yelp. When no source was found, Will mentally punched himself. He scrubbed his face with his hands and groaned.

 _Another hallucination_ , Will scolded himself, _pull yourself together._

The profiler retrieved a bottle of aspirin from his pocket and dry swallowed two tablets, returning to the shop with his head hanging low. The two officers that was with him was baffled as well as Tobias. The shop owner politely coughed.

“May I give you a tour of the shop while you ask your questions?”

The profiler hesitated for a moment and looked cautiously over Tobias. He was a man, no, Alpha almost twice his size who could be dangerous if he was left alone. If Hannibal suspected Budge to be the ‘Phantom of the Opera’, then, Will needed to uncover Tobias’ mask (and quickly). He finally agreed and followed Tobias around the winding shop.

The other officer followed him while Tobias pointed out the violins, cellos, and the petite white-gold fiddle behind glass. Will stopped to examine the finer details of the delicate instrument while Tobias continued with the other officer, unwary of the mistake he just committed.

He heard the fiddle softly play in the back of his mind while piano keys entered the melody. It was sensual in a way. Music brought emotion and clarity. It shapes to the way the listener interprets it, and enters the mind in full calamity. Whether its the pounding of a massive drum or the faintest piano key, Will heard it all being orchestrated in his conscious.

The profiler broke out of his daydreaming when he heard a loud ‘thump’ on the wooden floor, rushing into the other show room, a short gasp escaping his lips. A puddle of blood trailed from the officer’s severed throat and his glassy round eyes frantically searching around for anyone to assist him. Will choked on a breath and heard another loud thump coming from the front of the shop and his legs went into action. He felt as if he was running through a maze, bouncing from room to room, just to see another officer gasping and gurgling for breath. Will’s adrenaline pumped through his veins like a fix, fueling him to push his insecurities back into a cage, and muster that “false” strength. Will sprinted towards the back of the shop where the stairs trailed blood…

~*~

Will avoided touching the plastic sheets hanging from the basement ceiling. Most of them were covered in brown grime that the profiler could only expect as dried blood. His fingers twitched against the gun’s trigger. His heart vibrated against his rib cage and sweat beaded on his forehead.

He approached what looked to be container of some sort and dropped his gun a little. He used one hand to lift the lid and nearly vomited at the sight. Fleshy pink tendrils of what looked like vocal chords floated around in foul-smelling solution. They looked like long, fat maggots swimming around in filth and Will slammed the lid down. He inhaled deeply then exhaled.

Like a predator pouncing on his unwary prey, Will felt something behind him wrap around his neck, his hands instinctively coming up to block. His gun fell on the floor and had been kicked away in the confrontation. Very fine wire sliced his palms as he tried to buck against the force on his back, his eyes swelling with tears during his struggle. He heard a breathless chuckle escape Tobias’ lips and his whole body jerked wildly. His head knocked back into Tobias’ face and that granted him a few seconds to put some distance between them. Will went straight for the floor and grasped his discarded firearm, firing wildly at the beast in front of him.

 _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six._ The last bullet scrapped Tobias’ temple and had him wheeling back. He tried to fire again but he was out of bullets. It didn’t matter because Tobias had fled from the basement and Will didn’t give much of a pursuit. He felt for his cellphone and his shaky fingers tried to dial Hannibal…

~*~

“I don’t want another psychiatrist!”, Franklyn protested, his entire face flushed in a crimson hue. He balled his fist and looked as if he was going to explode at any moment. “This isn’t fair!”

“Franklyn, as your psychiatrist, I want to see you get better. You need to focus on recovering instead of letting your mental health deteriorate. I’m doing what is best for you.”, Hannibal replied, placing a hand on Franklyn’s shoulder. The man seemed to lighten up at the gesture and smiled widely. Hannibal tried to return the smile but frankly, he didn’t like Franklyn that much.

In all honesty, Franklyn became too clingy and obsessive, much more to Hannibal’s discretions. Hannibal would’ve been his ninth psychiatrist yet he was confident Franklyn would find the help he truly deserved. The psychiatrist had already placed the referral to colleague he had already discussed the matter with.

His office’s door was swung open and they both swiveled around at the interruption. Tobias Budge, bloodied and looking absolutely rabid, stormed in. His eyes seemed to softened when they found Franklyn’s.

“Franklyn…”, Tobias said softly. “I’m afraid this will be our last soiree.”

Franklyn let out a startled gasp and approached his friend. “Tobias, please! It isn’t too late to turn yourself in!”, the man babbled, desperately trying to save a friend beyond redemption. It was cute in a way, Hannibal chuckled under his breath while Tobias tried to console his upset friend.

“I know.”, the virtuoso gave his friend one last embrace before stepping back. Little could be done now, Tobias wasn’t simply going to surrender, not when the prize of superiority was in front of him.

 _Now it was getting ridiculous_ , Hannibal took three quick paces and easily snapped Franklyn’s head around. He silently watched as the man crumpled to the floor and grinned sadistically when he saw the anger rise in Tobias.

“That was mine…”

Hannibal shedded his person-suit and licked his lips, his canines showing dangerously towards the rival Alpha.

“Nothing is yours...not in my lair.”

~*~

Will almost hit a fire hydrant on his way to park in front of Hannibal’s office. A flock of police cars and an ambulance crowded the way yet Will got out his car, ran through the emergency service workers, and into Hannibal’s office. His heart kept drumming against his ribcage while his anxiety ramped up tenfold. He didn’t know if Tobias had went after Hannibal, if so, what kind of damage he’d done to Hannibal.

He finally entered the disarranged office and let out a sigh of relief. Hannibal was sitting in his officer chair while a EMT treated his wounds. By the looks of it, Hannibal seemed to be fairing well while he was being questioned by an officer. Will approached while the officer was making her final notes on her report. The psychiatrist looked up at him and smiled, the little red gash on his lip started to bleed again.

“Are you okay, Hannibal?”, Will asked, his anxiety lessening little by little.

“I’m fine, William. It’s nothing more but a scratch.”, Lecter replied, dabbing his lip with one of the swabs the EMT provided. He winced at the sudden sting and Will sucked in a breath.

“I’m going to be fine, William. Please don’t worry yourself any more.”

Will couldn’t help it. He cared about Hannibal to the point it ached to see him battered and bruised. From the corner of his eye, he could see the coroner wheel out a black body bag. He didn’t have to guess who that was.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here faster.”

“Don’t apologize, Will. I’m glad you’re here now.”

A moment of silence followed till Will chuckled softly and looked away, his face becoming pink in embarrassment, as well as Hannibal’s. Lecter noticed the condition of Will’s hands and quickly took them into his own, inspecting the slashes across his palms. He obtained bandages from the EMT’s kit and began to wrap them, his own hands delicate during the process. Will sighed and allowed the psychiatrist to mend his wounds.

“It was from Tobias…”, he admitted.

Hannibal glanced up at him before ripping the last bit of bandage off its roll. His fingers brushed over Will’s knuckles before he reluctantly let go.

They watched as every inch of the office was photographed and swabbed for vital evidence. Crawford eyed them but didn’t make a move to approach. That was fine. Hannibal was fine and Will survived yet another killer.

_A far more dangerous, complex, killer sat next to him, drinking the sweet wine of hubris and strangling himself with his own tail. Pride was the golden ambrosia the killer strived for, hunted for, and ultimately killed for…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> { If you want to see update notices about any of my works, follow my Ao3 Tumblr or subscribe to me. Leave your comments/suggestions on my tumblr, email, or at the bottom ! }


	8. A Bouquet Of White Lily (A Bouquet of Chasity)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lecter twins reunite while Will restrains his flustered biology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ★ Ahhh, I didn't really feel like updating this. After this story is done, I might quit with Hannibal fics for a time. I don't feel attune with this fandom anymore, for my own reasons.  
> ★ Mano brolis: Lithuanian for "My Brother"  
> ★ Palikti: Lithuanian for "Shut up"  
> Please tell me if the Lithuanian is wrong, I had to use Google Translate and I'm not entirely sure if its accurate.  
> Triggers: None  
> Not Beta-Read  
> ★ Be safe & happy  
> See you whenever I update again!

Chapter Eight

A Bouquet Of White Lily

(A Bouquet of Chasity)

~*~

 

Hannibal’s residence wasn’t the easiest to break into, Nigel had spent at least an hour trying to pry open the side window. He couldn’t find a key and he was damn sure his dearly beloved twin wasn’t going to give him one. Besides, it passed some time. The drug lord walked through the house while idly taking note of the decor, most of it resembling their aunt’s residence, yet some was completely Hannibal’s own taste. Nigel didn’t care much for mahogany or the animal skulls.

He went into the kitchen and swinged the refrigerator door wide open. The contents had been various gourmet delicacies, some Nigel wouldn’t even touch because of their look. He found what appeared to be beer and popped the cap off it. He took a deep swallow and sighed, if Hannibal knew anything, it was good alcohol. He closed the fridge’s door but paused. A smile crept across his face as the feeling of eyes burning into his back felt too familiar. He turned just slightly before a strong hand shoved him against the refrigerator. Nigel bursted out in laughter and let the bottle of beer crash to the floor. Cherry red eyes like his own, lighter skin, and a much more aged expression, his dear twin had seen _better_ days.

“ _Mano brolis_.”, Nigel purred as the hand pressed against his shoulder tightened.

“ _Palikti_.”, Hannibal snarled back. Nigel clutched his twin’s arm and wrenched it off his shoulder.

He took a dangerous step forward and bared his teeth. Like a pitiful game of dominance, neither twin was going to back down or submit. It had been instilled into their heads since childhood. They spent every waking hour picking fights with each other. After a while, it got tiring and the brothers parted ways, seeing that either of them could surpass each other. Hannibal took a much more noble way of life while Nigel wallowed with rats and bedded harlots.

Hannibal sighed and turned away from his twin while beer and glass laid on his pristine kitchen tile, the corners of his lips twitching into a frown. To see such a mess irked his nerves insufferably.

“I didn’t anticipate your arrival, Nigel. Nor did I give you a key to enter my home.”

Nigel shrugged his shoulder and pushed the shattered glass to the side with his foot, earning a fiery gaze from his twin. He looked around the kitchen a little bit more then sat at the island counter.

“That reminds me, ‘annibal. You need to invest in another window. Also, did you fall for my guilt trip? Classic, I know.”, Nigel replied back coyly.

The psychiatrist pinched the bridge of his nose and went to retrieve a wet cloth. He got down on the tiled floor and wiped the beer, then, carefully picked up the larger shards of glass. Nigel dug into his pants pocket for his cigarettes and before he could get one out the pack, Hannibal shot him a warning glare. He licked his lips and returned the pack into his pocket.

“By the way, ‘annibal, what happened to your face?”, Nigel asked.

Hannibal put the broom and dust pan back into their place and took a deep inhale, exhaled, and glance at his twin.

“A minor altercation.”

“I didn’t know you were the type to fight, ‘annibal.”

Lecter pursed his lips and hid his discretions. Slightly irritated with his twin’s arrival and the terms he used to secure it, Hannibal took another punch to the gut and kept himself from choking his twin. He’d never been fond of Nigel’s lifestyle nor did he want to be anywhere near it.

Hannibal took a long inhale then exhaled.

“Would you care to stay for lunch, _Nigel_?”

The drug lord’s eyes sparked up in surprise then lidded back into mischief.

“I can always use your company, _Hannibal_.”

~*~

Will landed face first into his bed while his pack ran around crazily. His head throbbed with an upcoming migraine and his body was screaming at him to give up. Will could admit that he didn’t listen to his body and suffered the consequences but, he couldn’t help it. Crawford had him bouncing back and forth to crime scenes almost every day, like a rat trying to find its way outside a maze. The profiler simply couldn’t take it and found that most days, he was just sleep-walking through. There was one night where he was out in the middle of nowhere, chasing after some white rabbit that didnt exist, yet he remembered very little. The police officers got him home and that’s when Winston joined the pack.

Will lifted his head from the bed and saw his pack sitting around him while whimpering in concern. He shooed them away and they returned back to the living room. There was a heat pooling in his stomach and it ached deeply, Will took a glance at the circular pill case on his night stand. His monthly supply dwindled down to just a few days and it was expensive to get refills. His medical coverage didn’t cover most of his essential medications, which irked Will on many levels, yet he hadn’t been able to switch providers.

Hannibal had mention he would be happy to assist in Will’s medications but, Will kindly denied. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Hannibal to help, it didn’t sit well within Graham. As nice and helpful Hannibal was, it was getting to the point that Hannibal wanted to _provide_ for Will. He was a grown man at the end of the day. He had a successful teaching job and even a part-time government job. Yet Hannibal made it seem that he couldn’t even pay his bills. On top of that, the psychiatrist announced his _ideation of courtship_ towards Will not too long ago. It was sudden and the more Will thought about it, _it creeped him out_.

Hannibal had good intentions but, Will wasn’t ready to settle with anyone just yet. Yes his age was slowly changing his body but, he preferred to take time to find his relationships. Like aging wine or mining a diamond out the rough. It needed to be handled healthy and delicately.

Will ignored the warm heat flushing down to his groin in favor of aspirin. He reached over to the nightstand and dry-swallowed two of them.

_A little restraint would go along way..._

 


	9. A Bouquet Of Dead Violets (A Bouquet of False Modesty)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal devises a plan to gain the upperhand at courting Will while a journalist gets her hands on something that could jeopardize both Will and Hannibal Lecter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ★★ Triggers: Descriptions of violence and gore. ★★  
> Please read carefully and I'll see you next update.

Chapter Nine  
A Bouquet Of Dead Violets  
(A Bouquet of False Modesty)

Will regained himself and took the last bit of suppressants he had left for his prescription, grooming himself in the bathroom, and finally eating something. Though his body felt like it’d been slinged into a brick wall, he still had much to do in the Ripper cases and he was adamant that Crawford was going to lose his head if the file analysis wasn’t done. His heat could be staved off for a few more hours if his body could tolerate even more stress. Sweating and nausea could be brushed off like pollen but, slick running between his legs could not and the desperate ache to be filled _could not_.

In recent years, Will hadn’t had such an intense heat till his suppressant dosage had been tampered with. It left him miserable for weeks if not months that followed. Ever since then, the profiler was careful on what prescriptions he picked up at the pharmacy, checking every single white and brown pill in the set almost obsessively. He wasn’t afraid of the heat cycle itself but, who would be around him if such a heat occurred. Some people would’ve took advantaged of his delirious state and it made him paranoid.

Yet it was no secret that Will’s sex life was non-existent and hardly worth the mention. He was a hopeless romantic in a world that declared sex was the ultimate bond between two people. In fact, _he couldn’t remember when anyone took interest._

_Except Hannibal which Will believed the psychiatrist was simply being polite and refusing to further any feelings between them._

Hannibal would be a good companion in every aspect yet Will didn’t feel attune with his Alpha counterpart. He was too perfect to be considered perfect. His house, his occupation, and even his image made him the envy of everyone Hannibal has ever encountered. How could someone that perfect live without making one tiny mistake?  
  
 _It was inhuman._   
  


Will slumped in his dining chair and rolled a pen back and forth. Nothing made sense anymore. The Ripper was now a cannibalistic florist, jack-of-all-trades copycats springing up like weeds, and for everything Will Graham held dear, there were probably organs being planted in gardens. He didn’t like sitting around feeling like he’s being mocked.

_First it was the Minnesota Strike, then Tobias Budge, and finally Doctor Gideon, a whole harvest of serial killers ripe and ready to bloom. And the biggest weed of them all, the Chesapeake Ripper who sucked all life out of the flowers still growing in the gardens of Baltimore._

Will let his pen fall off the table in the midst of getting up to make a pot of coffee.

This job demanded too much of his stability.

While Will waited for the coffee to brew, he imagined his hands wrapped around the Ripper’s throat, choking the life out of him, like he did to so many others. To see the life diminish from his eyes, feel his last breath slip from his lips, and finally avenge those poor spirits called before their time and devoured by a gluttonous monster, Will shivered with the euphoria his already oversensitive empathy imagined. He leaned against the counter and braced himself. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his throat suddenly felt dry. He desperately craved that final moment where he could finally tear the Ripper to shreds. Yet the only face he could place on the Ripper was _Hannibal’s_.  
  


Will snapped back when he heard the coffee pot ‘ding’ at its completion. What startled him more was that he was imagining killing Hannibal. It was unfathomable. No ounce of his conscious believed Hannibal could be the Chesapeake Ripper but, perhaps there was a reason to doubt. Will swallowed dryly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

No, it didn’t make any sense. Hannibal was a successful man with everything he could want in life. It would’ve been unconventional for Hannibal to pursue such vile acts of violence yet, not entirely impossible. Hannibal Lecter was the embodiment of _perfection_ which probably masked aspects of his life that he would never share, not even with Will.

_Nobody could be that perfect without making mistakes._

Will was oddly curious to unravel what Hannibal kept under polite favors and well-tailored suits...

~*~

Lunch with his dear twin wasn’t entirely insufferable, Hannibal just finished placing silverware into the drawer when he caught a glimpse of Nigel walking past the kitchen. He said nothing as the other Lecter twin said his goodbyes and left the residence.

Hannibal was slightly relieved to now have his home back to himself, especially, his kitchen. While he made sure everything was in place, he couldn’t help but fathom the reasons Nigel would lie in order to see him. Yes Nigel wasn’t respectable in his life choices yet he had to conjure such lies and misconceptions just to visit? It was oddly too familiar for Hannibal’s tastes.

This meant one or two things: _Nigel wasn’t hear for a reunion and this was strictly a means to harbor his illegal lifestyle._

Doctor Lecter hated having his leniency taken advantaged of and much did he hate having someone using it to their own personal gain. Such frustration stifled a low growl from Hannibal’s throat. A few moments passed and he calmed himself.

He would play Nigel’s little games for however long his brother wished to play, in fact, he was _delighted_ that his twin was playing such a dangerous game.

_Such games brought a smile to Hannibal’s face because he was always the victor_

On the other hand, Hannibal couldn’t focus all his attention on his deprived twin. Will Graham was also a potential interest in many ways but one in particular called to Hannibal’s inner muse. Will’s mind was like a labyrinth ready to have its most seclusive mazes explored. Like endless spiraling halls filled with visages of horror and gore that would make any sadist squeal in glee. Yet behind the visages, what kind of potential rested underneath like a diamond in the rough?

Will was a trained police officer and now a federal profiler which meant he had the expertise to make anything disappear. That sort of knowledge would be most beneficial to Hannibal’s endeavors because he couldn’t simply eat an entire human body without leaving some traces behind.

 _Much potential laid in those elaborate mazes and such potential could jeopardize his freedom_ , Hannibal bit his lower lip at the thought of himself in chains like some kind of _monstrous_ beast.

He wasn’t quite sure whether Will Graham was going to be a conventional ally or the scourge waiting to wedge itself down deep. Hannibal believed he could groom Will much to what his biological needs desired and his own personal critique required. That brilliant mind couldn’t  be left to turn into a barren wasteland or something for doctors like Chilton to host mad tea parties. If Hannibal was going to mold Will into a suitable partner, he needed more than kind gestures and flower bouquets. _He needed to do what needed to be done ages ago._  
  
Will must’ve never noticed but, his suppressants made him smell sour and unpleasant that not even Hannibal could decipher that sweetly spiced scent he smelled once upon a time ago. Will did not need to mask his secondary gender let alone feel ashamed of it, in fact, _Hannibal secretly glorified it_. A person such as Will Graham with a brilliant mind and even more brilliant body deserved to be cherished, adored, and worshipped. The psychiatrist could admit his behavior had been quite problematic over the last few weeks yet it wasn’t all in vain.  
  
Perhaps Will would be open to forming such a relationship. Minds intertwined while bodies touched. To feel whole and complete while never aching to feel another’s touch. Isn’t that what all people desired in life? Is that what Will yearned for in life?  
  
 _To be desired for once?_

Hannibal went into his study to ponder about the few viable options that would close the gap between him and Will’s static relationship. Obviously the flower bouquets weren’t working to Hannibal’s best interest, so, he decided to use what he knew best; medicine. While he progressed at John Hopkins, Hannibal was introduced to Omega studies in the midst of his own studies. He took note of several Omega patients who were all willing to discuss their time on suppressants and other hormone-blocking supplements. One in particular, Melissa Green, had mentioned when her primary doctor lowered her dosage, she experienced a quick succession of rapid heats to the point her own Alpha could rut at moment’s notice.  
  
Hannibal thought it was a myth and didn’t take her seriously back in those days but now that he was thinking about it, could the same work for Will? The psychiatrist didn’t consider himself a slave to biology nor did he allow it to make his decisions. He needed some kind of leverage to make Will even much more dependent on Hannibal to the point the profiler couldn’t function without Hannibal’s gentle hand.

_Yes because Hannibal was all that Will needed in life._

Hannibal pulled out his iPad and began composing an email to one of his colleagues working in pharmaceuticals, requesting that she would send Will’s prescription only in a lower dosage, out of concern and as his physician. He spared no details and even manipulated some of the email to make it unbelievably urgent that Will have his prescription changed immediately.

Satisfied with his deed, Hannibal shut his iPad down and sat back in his chair.

_Hannibal liked games especially when he made them his own…_

~*~

  
Nigel wasn’t particularly fond of any meat Hannibal served yet today was an exception. He wouldn’t dare show his twin that he couldn’t ingest that poor bastard butchered like long pig. In fact, this would’ve been his second time indulging in the sickly sweet taboo of cannibalism. _His first wasn’t something he was willing to relive or think about._

The drug lord took a moment to text Darko of his next intentions before taking a slow cruise through downtown Baltimore. The same scarlet red brick buildings went on for almost forever till a speck of modern architecture sprouted from the vintageness. The city was growing on him little by little. Nigel couldn’t help but stop at that little cafè he discovered while trailing Hannibal’s whereabouts weeks ago.

_And where he caught the eye of an admirer._

Nigel personally liked receiving attention. Whether it was eye contact or in the heat of passion, it was his second-class drug that gave him that first-class high. He wouldn’t call himself clingy or obsessive but, he desired to see more of his little admirer.

A crown of dark curls that rimmed azure eyes lingered in Nigel’s daydreams. _Such a beautiful admirer he’d attracted._

The drug lord caught himself. He parked his car in some parking lot of a department store and rested his hand against the steering wheel. It’d only been months since he’s splitted up with Gabi yet his atrocious actions still made his conscious heavy with guilt. He shouldn’t have hurt Gabi. She did nothing but, Nigel and his sickly obsessive nature made him conjure the worst of his insecurities.

_Paranoia was such a nasty narcotic._

Nigel’s phone notified him of Darko’s message and he spent the rest of his afternoon calling clients and making delivery plans. He needed another hobby instead of obsessing himself with beautiful strangers…

~*~

 

Once Hannibal received confirmation that Will’s prescriptions would be changed, he took it upon himself to visit his dear colleague. She lived in Pennsylvania which was quite the distance but, Hannibal enjoyed driving. Before his departure he made sure his receptionist canceled at least two days worth of appointments, though, Hannibal was sure he would return home before then.

The country home was quaint and sparse in various types of wild flowers and most prominent of flowers were violets ranging in hues of lavender to rich royal purple. It was close to evening when Hannibal parked his Bentley some distance from his colleague’s house with only his suitcase in hand. He packed the most basic of tools from his kill room: a plastic suit and more than enough knives. If he needed anything else, he was sure he would find it in the home.

Victoria Wells was a slender woman with coarse dark hair and warm personality. Her finesse in medicine was admirable even for Hannibal’s standards. She’d divorced her Alpha partner years ago and from what Hannibal was told, their only child was somewhere in Europe finishing his schooling. To be honest, Ms. Wells’s son wasn’t quite the achiever and sending him off to Europe was a mistake. Hannibal had met him only once during a dinner party and the insufferable little Alpha was too arrogant for his own good.

Hannibal walked up the porch steps and gingerly knocked on the door. A few moments later Ms. Wells opened the door and she was beyond surprised at Hannibal’s presence. She quickly let him in and fetched him refreshments, which in all respect, wouldn’t be necessary. Hannibal excused himself to the washroom where he started changing into his plastic suit.

Ms. Wells was a remarkable woman yet he couldn’t have her knowledge about his plans for Will discovered. In the end if she was confronted by authority, her finger would point to Hannibal and he didn’t like that. Her modesty was only a veil that covered a cowardly rat.

_She would make a beautiful roast for the dinner Hannibal would procreate..._

~*~

Will was surprised when he didn’t see Doctor Lecter a few days later at the newest crime scene. The pharmacy had been closed down in light of the newest Ripper victim being strung up like butchered meat. There were pills of all kinds scattered amongst the floor and counters. Will tried his best not to step on them but a few crunched underneath his shoes. He could literally feel every pair of eyes from the forensics team glare at him at his passing.

Crawford was absent as well but that didn’t mean he couldn't appear at any given time. The profiler made sure he was adamantly alone and calmed himself. He took a deep inhale, then exhaled, and watched as the infamous pendulum swing.

_The Ripper didn’t kill her here._

_He simply made the pharmacy a set for his grand masterpiece._

_She smelled of rain, wood, and something on a floral note._

_She knew the Ripper and allowed him into her home, into her safety, only to be his next victim._

_She must’ve worked here in this pharmacy._

_The Ripper must’ve asked for a favor but, what kind of favor meant death as a consequence?_

_And yet they’re dead violets bound around her hands and stuffed into her eye sockets._

_Perhaps her modesty is being mocked._

_A false modesty the Ripper didn’t like._

Will wretched himself out of his mindspace and took notice of a white bag with what looked to be a note. The profiler looked around before picking up the baggie with the note. It was prescribed for him yet his conscious told him this was some elaborate ruse from the Ripper to toy with him. He read the note:

_Hide if you must but I would love to see your true self._

Will crumpled the note and stuffed it in his pant’s pocket. He’d left the prescription on the counter. He was beyond words. It was insulting to know that the Ripper, which Will suspected to be was Doctor Lecter, knew his prescriptions and his personal identity. He didn’t want anyone to know what his second gender was let alone be called out for it. It was a piece of him he held dearly and refused to let it be deflowered.

The profiler was so irritated on his way out of the pharmacy that he unintentionally bumped into someone. When he recovered from the accident, he saw the last person he wanted to see.

Fredricka Lounds, dressed in cheetah and scarlet, had braced herself from the fall. Her eyes found Will and a mischievous smile came across her face. The profiler let out a huff of anger and walked away from her. He didn’t have time to be swirled into another one of Freddie’s devious fiascos. Even if Will didn’t tell her a single detail about the newest crime scene, _something was bound to show up on the Tattletale Crime website_.

As he was walking back to the car, he felt around in his other pocket and nearly went into panic mode. He was sure that he stuffed the note in that pocket. He whirled around and Freddie was gone. He mentally wanted to scream but he was too tired to pursue the journalist, finding his only resort was to go back home and wait for Crawford to drag him out again…

~*~

 

Freddie had picked up the small sheet of paper that Will had discarded during their altercation. She thought nothing of it till she was safely back in her hotel room and was sure that law enforcement wasn’t going to trail her again. She uncrumpled the small note and read it aloud:

_“Hide if you must but I would love to see your true self?”_

Freddie was quite puzzled at such an eloquent note but, what was it’s purpose? Did Will Graham have some kind of lover or was he hiding something even more deliciously dangerous? The possibilities were endless and not knowing the true answer made Freddie giddy. She retrieved her laptop from the dresser and powered it up, already conjuring a winning headline.

Another Ripper victim and FBI profiler Will Graham’s new secret lover?

Though it sounded clichè, it would suffice till Freddie went back and edit the entire article. It was hard to believe someone would have interest in severely unstable FBI profiler Will Graham. He wasn’t exactly the most attractive person on the planet but someone, if anyone, was taking a bite on the lure.

 _Crazies attracted crazies_ , Freddie mused devilishly as she waited for her website to load up...

~*~

Hannibal had received the notification on his iPad that Tattletale Crime had posted a new article. In the midst of preparing the roast, formally Victoria Wells, he took a glance at the article and nearly felt his blood pressure rise. Miss Lounds was known to write false information but the headline is what made Hannibal wanted to rip himself in two.

A part of him was relieved that Will got his note of interest but, on the other hand, he did not want Miss Lounds adding her venomous input on the relationship he was trying to foster. Will didn’t need outside sources peeking in on something as delicate as his second identity. He closed down his iPad and focused on preparing dinner.

His front door bell ringed and once again Hannibal was forced to stall his task. He wiped his hands on his apron as he walked to the front door, opened it, and growled under his breath. His twin knew exactly what to do to pester him.

“Hannibal.”, Nigel greeted.

“Nigel…”, Hannibal nonchalantly replied.

_“What can you tell me about Will Graham?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ★ Finally updated this while I sort out my feelings for this show. In all honesty, I believe three seasons would be enough to tie the show. Sometimes shows aren't bound to last forever. Whatever happens, I will admit I would satisfied with the choice. Whether the show ends or is picked up by another network, I'll be ok watching it once more. I tried to make this sound as pleasantly as I could. ★


	10. A Bouquet Of Thorns (A Bouquet of Pain)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel and Hannibal confront each other and draw the line on which twin was entitled to what. Will meets up with Hannibal at another crime scene while Fredricka becomes intimate with Nigel and his wicked ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, Graphic Language, and Referenced/Implied Death Of A Person  
> Please be advised.
> 
> On another note:  
> I deeply apologize for such a delayed update. I've started my school year in August and had been so busy that I personally didn't have time for any of my hobbies. There may be another delay in updates over the next few weeks and possibly months but I promise you, it's not intentional.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope to squeeze out smaller Hannibal writings before I completely diverge away from the fandom. Thank you for understanding.

Chapter Ten:  
A Bouquet Of Thorns  
(A Bouquet of Pain)

* * *

 

 

Hannibal felt his twin’s eyes bore into his own like a burning sword pierced into the earth. Every fiber of his being wanted nothing more than to rush his brother into the wall and rip into his throat. To rip his chest open and wrap his fingers around that fleshy beating organ, devour it like a starved animal, and fully ingest what was _promised_ to him at birth.

_His own birthright snatched back to its rightful owner._

Looking at Nigel know made his blood hot but, when Nigel asked about Will Graham, it made it boil. His inferior twin had no aptitude to invest himself in Will’s presence let alone indulge in what was Hannibal’s.

  
“—Good evening, Nigel. Would you care to join me for dinner?”, Hannibal gritted out.

If Nigel’s smirk wasn’t an indicator of his nature, Hannibal didn’t know his twin like he thought he knew because clearly, that was what Nigel was hoping for. The other Alpha shrugged his shoulders and brushed past Hannibal. A small gesture of intimidation but, Nigel was far more than primitive intimidation. He knew how to pull Hannibal’s strings, how to test what made him tweak, and ultimately, what made him totally unravel. Underneath his skin, he was a boiling cauldron of dominance and pride; a familial trait Hannibal could admit he shared with his twin.

Hannibal left Nigel in favor of preparing dinner yet kept a close eye on him from afar. There was something off about Nigel’s presence even more so it made Hannibal fume underneath.

The younger Lecter twin glanced at Hannibal from across the kitchen and smirked a little. He slid into one of the seats at the island counters and watched as Hannibal prepared some unlucky bastard. There were no words shared between them for a few moments, though there was never anything the Lecter twins shared, but for once it was quiet.

“—Who was the unlucky fucker you butchered?”, Nigel asked coyly.

Hannibal chuckled under his breath and pretended he didn’t know the subject of the question. He finished cutting the unwanted parts of the thigh-roast and sat it near the oven to be seasoned later. Nigel sucked in a breath and idly tapped his finger against the counter. Hannibal obviously heard his question yet to his own selfish delight, chose not to indulge his brother with an answer.

 _That was fine_ , Nigel thought over in his head, _you aren’t denying it you sick shit._

“You haven’t answered my question, ‘Annibal.”

Hannibal turned his back to Nigel and continued working at the task at hand, taking out fresh vegetables to be washed, chopped, and served with the main dish. He purposely left his fine kitchen knife nearby in case of any sudden incidents. In fact, he was hoping that Nigel was up for a _little slice-and-dice._  
  


~*~  
  


The silence remained for the most part as Hannibal paced around the kitchen in a culinary euphoria while his twin seethed deep crimson in his seat. In the heat of Hannibal’s work, Nigel erupted from his seat, crossed the counter into the kitchen, and reached for Hannibal.   
  
_So the serpent strikes_ , Hannibal playfully mused to himself, as if he didnt expect Nigel to lunge for him.  
  
The elder twin was faster; the knife that was abandoned near by found its mark near Nigel’s throat as the Lecter twins had each other by tooth and nail. They both snarled at each other while pressed against one of the counters as cooking supplies clattered to the floor. Hannibal’s dish had been abandoned on the floor as well. Hannibal pressed the blade tighter to Nigel’s throat and the younger twin flexed his neck out, a thin trail of sanguine rolling down his tanned skin.

  
“You will _not_ get between me and William, Nigel. Do you understand me?”, Hannibal gritted out, pressing the knife even more into Nigel’s flesh.

His twin lolled his head back and nearly bursted in laughter.

_Hannibal didn’t like that at all._

“Is that why you’re sucha stuck up bitch? Some omega who would fuck anyone in the world besides your old ass?”, taunted Nigel, his sickly-bitter tone made Hannibal shiver in irritation.  
  
The knife was flung away from Nigel’s throat as Hannibal backed away. If the growling from the back of his throat wasn’t an indicator of his current dismay, then Nigel didn’t know how to get under his twin’s skin. The badman stepped off from the counter and wiped the blood dripping down his neck, tasting such vital life essence, and deciding that he wanted more but, not his own. He eyed Hannibal’s down for a few seconds then his face crumpled up into disgust.  
  
“Such a pathetic fool in love you are, ‘annibal. Dont worry, I’ll fuck up everything you got just like when we were kids.”, he gruffly stated, turning his back away from the other Lecter twin. He left the kitchen and soon out of the residence. The hum of his sports car could be faintly heard inside the house like a gentle purr from a feline.

Hannibal took a deep inhale and replaced the knife back into its proper place in the holder nearby. His eyes drifted down to the mess on the floor and he internally groaned.

_Perhaps he was a fool in love…_

Hannibal bent down to start picking up shards of glass and food till the phone in the other room had started to ring. he abandoned the task of cleaning up in favor of retrieving the phone. He picked up the phone and held it to his ear.  
  
“Good evening, this is Hannibal Lecter.”, greeted Hannibal.  
  
“Hannibal? Thank God, it’s you. Listen, I need your help…”, Will said with a sense of urgency in his voice.

Hannibal’s chest swelled for a moment but, he calmed himself.  
  
“Will, what is the matter? Are you hurt? Where are you?”  
  
“—No, uhm, I just need a favor from you.”

“Anything for you, William.”, Hannibal cooed sweetly, relaxing himself on the wall nearby. He coiled his free hand through his hair as he listened to Will’s soft breathing for a few moments.  
  
“I’ll need your help for another Ripper case and also, I have to share something with you. I’ll tell you at Quantico tomorrow morning.”, with that, the line clicked off and Hannibal was left with the dead tone.  
  
Hannibal wondered what Will had to tell him. He ran through all the possibilities in his head but none would be a norm for Will. He didn’t think on it too much because his kitchen was still a wreck and dinner had to be _remade._

Nigel was starting to become more than just a thorn to the side but, an actual blight infecting Hannibal from the inside out. He couldn’t let his twin’s actions interfere on what he’s been cultivating with Will over the last few months.

_Hannibal would be damned if he allowed Will to slip out of his fingers and into the tendrils of Nigel’s disgusting mannerisms…_

~*~

 

Nigel parked his car in the Hilton Hotel’s parking lot and pulled out his smartphone. He opened up one of his browsers and pulled up the Tattle Crime website. He was quite amused by the recent article written just the other day on Will Graham and it intrigued him so much that he got one of Darko’s tech-savvy pricks to track down the owner of the site.  A woman named Fredricka Lounds was the first on his list to visit and perhaps persuade her for information on Will Graham. She was the one who wrote the ridiculous yet devilishly-entertaining article on the FBI profiler. Darko’s tech pricks even gave Nigel an address which happened to be in the Hilton that Nigel had thought on staying at.

_Now he had a reason to._

  
Nigel got out of his car and walked into the hotel’s extravagant lobby. Security was minimal but, nothing compared to what Nigel had to contend with in Europe. The color scheme was white, cream, and gold, all of the furniture looked to be imported from overseas. There wasn’t a single soul other than the receptionist at the front desk and a maid that happened to exit the elevator. Nigel scoped the room even further and when the maid disappeared from the lobby, he stalked his way to the receptionist. By the looks and smell of the receptionist, he was a Beta. Average looking features and a sense of plainness on him, Nigel had found it easy to slide up to the Beta, slip a hundred across the  desk, and got the room key to Freddie Lounds suite. He tucked the card into his jacket and crossed the lobby.

Into the elevator and finally up on the floor Lounds was residing in, Nigel strolled down the hallway with his fingers gliding on the smooth wall. He began to whistle softly while his trigger finger itched and craved to be wrapped around the trigger of the glock underneath his shirt.  He didn’t intend to use his gun but, if Lounds proved to be a fight, he was willing to _pop a cap_.

_That thought reminded Nigel that he needed to invest in a silencer._

Nigel got to suite and took the card key out from his pocket, sliding it into the slot, yanking it out, and into the room he went. It was dark but not to the point Nigel was totally blind. The first thing he noticed was the laptop still illuminated over on the table. He reached underneath his shirt for the glock and stalked through the suite like a jaguar in the rainforest. He stopped when he heard a feminine voice say something from the bathroom to Nigel’s far right.

The bathroom door was about to open when Nigel ducked under the nearest cover; a half-wall that separated the sitting area from the dining area. The light from the bathroom covered almost the entire room as Nigel listened to feet softly pacing on the floor.

He watched and listened for what seemed like forever till he heard keys being tapped on the laptop. He poked his head up a little bit and saw Freddie facing away from him, her fiery-red hair noticeable even in the dim lighting. From her silhouette illuminated by the faint light of the laptop, Nigel could see her slender form and fox-like face;

 _This is my chance_ , Nigel said to himself as he slowly and carefully  sneaked over to the unexpecting reporter, my chance to steal everything Hannibal’s been trying to sow.  
  
His presence didn’t go undetected for long because Freddie’s head snapped around so fast that Nigel was sure that she could’ve broken her neck. She jumped out of seat just as Nigel pulled out his firearm and pointed it lazily at the startled woman. Her dark blue eyes were filled with sudden alarm as she stared down the barrel of Nigel’s gun. With only a towel wrapped around her body, Freddie looked like she’d seen a ghost.

A ghost holding a gun…  
  
“—Hannibal!? What the hell are you doing here!?”, Freddie asked with panic swelling in her throat.

Nigel cackled and held the gun much closer to Freddie’s face, the reporter cringing in her seat. His lips pursed into a thin smile while shifting the gun to his opposite hand.

“Oh no, no, no darling... _I’m worse than Hannibal_.”

~*~

Will impatiently waited outside in the Quantico parking lot as a flood of students made their way inside for early morning classes. He kept a lookout for Hannibal’s Bentley and was hell-bent on meeting Hannibal. The incident at the pharmacy over the last few days had him drowning in anxiety. Someone actually knew about his second identity, something Will had repressed since grade school, and the sheer thought of someone _exploiting_ that secret sent cold shivers down Will’s spine. Not only would his career be on the line but, his independence as well, and Will held onto it with both hands.

Will leaned against his car and checked his smart phone; no calls or messages. He sighed heavily and tucked his phone back into his pocket. It was almost 9:00 A.M. and his first class of the morning was going to start.

 _Perhaps Hannibal had some errands to run_ , Will thought as he walked towards Quantico, his muse heavy with anxiety and disappointment.

As he was walking, Crawford was coming out the building and almost instantly, Will knew what the man was going to say. He steeled himself before Crawford and took a deep breath.  
  
“—There’s been another one, huh?”

~*~

Hannibal was already at the crime scene behind the yellow tape once Will got out of the SUV with Crawford. He nearly screamed in relief when he saw the familiar blue-striped suit assemble and platinum blonde hair. Hannibal was idly conversing with an office taking notes on the crime scene. In fact, everyone nearby was questioning this crime scene. It was one of the many Hiltons in Baltimore, surprisingly of all places, but the scene did not lack its gorey aesthetic. Will looked around the hotel lobby to piece together the scene. Off to the side one of the receptionists was being questioned along with a few other staff members.

The victim, a hotel maid, strung up by her arms up on the second floor railing with a message carved onto her chest. The word was hard to decipher given its foreign origin but, Will took one glance at Hannibal across the lobby and knew he knew what the word meant. He joined the psychiatrist and looked up more at the deceased female.   
  
“—Doctor Lecter.”, Will said, his eyes not leaving the hotel maid.  
  
“William.”, Hannibal replied, the corners of his lips curving into a smile. They both turned to each other and acknowledge each other’s presence.   
  
“If I may ask, what did you want to discuss? Our conversation over the phone had been very urgent.”, Hannibal inquired.

Will sighed and adjusted his glasses.  
  
“I rather discuss in it private...Away from Jack and his chattering cockatoos.”, responded Will.  
  
Hannibal nodded and calmly watched as more officers and examiners came into the grand lobby. He oddly didn’t feel out of place in this lobby; the interior decoration pleased his own aesthetic, and the way he was dressed made him one with the magnificent ornamentation. Yet looking up at the heinous work above him made his psyche cringe.

This wasn’t his work nor would he ever do such miserable looking work.

The message carved raggedly across the torso made his gut twist painfully.

Skausmas or pain was clearly stated and Hannibal had a pretense on who could’ve written him such a message. His twin was growing bolder by the day and it didn’t sit right with Hannibal. If the insufferable brat acted in such a manner to convey a message, it was the most heinous way.

“—Doctor Lecter, what does that say?”, Will asked and pointed up to the bloody word.

Hannibal snapped out of his musing and turned to Will. He looked up at the victim then back to the profiler.  
  
“ _Skausmas_.”, the Lithuanian word rolled off his tongue deeply. “It means pain.”  
  
Will raised an eyebrow and repeated the word under his breath. He scrunched his face in thought while Hannibal stood idly by. Crawford had approached the two of them and Will broke his thoughts and engaged into whatever Crawford directed him to. It was like the older man possessed his strings and casted him wherever he pleased. Hannibal didn’t like how willing Will was to Crawford, even if a professional workplace, though Crawford couldn’t be coaxed to relieve Will of his post.

Yet Hannibal put his trust of Will’s wellbeing into Crawford’s gracious hands, especially with his twin taking some animosity behind Hannibal’s back. If it came to it, Hannibal would gamble that Crawford would be the one to put his twin down. That made Hannibal feel a little better as he took his leave off the Hilton hotel premises.

_You win this round, dear brother. Yet your little tantrum is going to be your biggest mistake._

~*~

It was easy to persuade Fredricka to pounce on that unexpecting hotel maid and carve the message into her bosom. With a loaded gun and a little encouragement, Nigel could practically get the woman to do anything. Getting the maid onto the balcony did take some work and a little technological touch but, they both managed to hang the poor woman up on the railing.

Now that he was thinking about the hotel, it’d been a few hours since he shoved Freddie into his car. Of course she was dressed in something more decent other than a bath towel and her laptop was safely tucked under Nigel’s seat. She was mostly quiet the car ride back to one of Darko’s apartments he rented out for Nigel’s affairs but, every now and then she would sob when her hands brushed the dark blue-purple bruise on her cheek. Nigel wasn’t prone to using violence for the things he wanted, _no_ , scratch that, but she had forced his hand. He still had the bite mark on his inner arm and it hurted like hell. Nigel pulled into the underground parking garage and turned off his car. Freddie visibly tensed and looked as if she was ready to fight or fly out of her predicament.

The badman checked the chamber of the pistol sitting on his thigh and counted five bullets; the sixth was used on the maid, and made sure that Freddie saw him checking them. He turned towards Freddie and grinned.

“—Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice, love.”, Nigel stated.

Fredricka looked as if she was judging her two options and decided with the latter, waiting patiently for Nigel to release her from the passenger seat. He pressed the button to retract the seat belt and unlocked the car doors, stepping out and going around the car. Freddie got out shortly and stayed pressed against the car, her eyes watching Nigel’s movements with anxiety. Quite frankly, Nigel wasn’t going to hurt her anymore than what was needed. She wasn’t someone he was getting ransom for so it didn’t matter. Just by looking at her and what she did for living, nobody would offer a ransom anyway.

“—This way.”, Nigel said, grabbing Freddie under her arm while his pistol was in his other hand.

She didn’t fight Nigel’s grasp as she walked with him. The journalist took notes on her surroundings and remembered all the assault-prevention videos she had watched. If Hannibal or whoever this man was going to hurt her even more, she was ready for it. Surprisingly, she was only hit with the pistol’s butt (though not very hard but hard enough to bruise) and forced to kill someone. Charming.

Nigel and Fredricka got into an open elevator and he clicked the floor. They waited for the elevator to close and start to bring them up. It was extremely awkward. The kidnapping part of course was awkward especially if the kidnapper had a face of someone you knew. _The resemblance was uncanny._ Nigel had explained that Hannibal was his twin brother but, Fredricka found that hard to believe. The only real difference she saw was mannerisms. Nigel was more bold and foul-mouthed while Hannibal was eloquent and well-tempered.

_It was absolutely unbelievable._

Hannibal had never mentioned he had family (not to Freddie of course) nor did anyone think he had any left. Seeing Nigel here beside her was messing with her perception. She sighed under her breath and waited for the elevator to stop.

It stopped on the tenth floor and Fredricka was forced into a lavish looking apartment. There was little furniture but, enough to make the place look livable. She was seated on a loveseat in the living room while Nigel rummaged the kitchen. Fredricka took the time to take even mroe notes on her surroundings and the only exit she had was through the giant glass windows to plummet to her death.

_If the option aroused._

Nigel tossed a water bottle to her and she caught it, instantly putting the cool beverage on her aching cheek, sighing in relief when the coldness alleviated the burn. Her kidnapper stayed in the kitchen up against the counter, his attention focused more on his phone. From a distant, he appeared to be a model or something more. He was just as aesthetically pleasing as Hannibal only with a flare of danger hanging over him.

_Freddie liked that._

Nigel slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked over at Fredricka. He smiled and Freddie felt a chill run down her spine.

“—So you’re a writer?”, Nigel asked.

It was an obvious question but, Freddie nodded her head.

“What have you been writing on Will Graham?”  
  
Freddie raised her eyebrow and acted coy. Nigel registered her discretion and waltzed over to where she was sitting. He hovered over her and ran his hand through her fiery red curls, slightly tugging the ends of them. Freddie tensed up as the smothering scent of an Alpha choked her. Though she was a Beta, there was no mistaking Nigel’s secondary identity because it nearly smothered her.

“How do you know—”, Freddie was cut off by her hair being grabbed and her head being forced back. She squealed and latched onto the wrist that held her.

Nigel was looking down on her. His dark maroon eyes seemed to look crimson as she could see his anger. Her breathing hitched as Nigel’s grip became harsher.

“What. Do. You. Know. About. Will. Graham?”, Nigel gritted out.  
  
“I’ll tell you everything if you just let go of my hair!”, Freddie screeched as she was nearly pulled off the sofa.  
  
Nigel thought about it for a moment and his grip began to weaken which gave Freddie a window of time to break free, coaxing her scalp with her hands. A tear rolled down her face as a few curly red strands was between Nigel’s fingers. His lips rolled into a wicked smile as he chuckled, coming around the other side of the couch, then he sat down.

“—Now we talkin’ baby… _Start talking_.”  
  


Freddie eyed the pistol in Nigel’s possession and could feel all the strength drain from her body. This man, no, this monster was hell-bent on squeezing any information that Fredricka could possibly conjure out of her. She intended to survive the night but if it came to reality, Fredricka would cast herself out of that window to drop to her death... _Unless a bullet was going to be laid to rest in her skull._  
  
“Who’s Will Graham and why is my brother so fucking obsessed with him?”

 


	11. A Bouquet Of Bluebells (A Bouquet of Humility)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nigel questions Freddie further on her knowledge about Will and Hannibal's relationship.

Chapter 11  
A Bouquet of Bluebells  
(A Bouquet of Humility)

 

 

It was a quiet trip back to Hannibal’s house. Neither Will or Hannibal uttered a word let alone let a breath slip their lips. It was for the best as the events of the night was hauntingly creeping up their shoulders like blackened vines. The city lights illuminated their pathway home almost like the giant chandelier in the hotel and just like starlight, the aesthetic of it all washed over the mood.

Will stole the moment to look over at Hannibal and with his eyes did he follow the tight jawline of his friend. That platinum hair with strands that glimmered like starlight, eyes a deep, rich crimson, and such a warmness in his spirit made Will smile just a little bit. When he caught himself, he quickly took his vision towards the window. His chest felt a little tight but, Will kept his focus on the passing cars.   
  
“—I’m sorry that my family conflicts are coming between our relationship and our work ethic.”, Hannibal said. His eyes slightly drifted from the road as he caught a glance of Will’s acknowledgement.   
  
“It happens to everyone.”, Will replied with a bit of coldness in his tone. He caught himself for a moment and sighed softly.   
  
“Look, I didn’t mean it like that Hannibal. Everyone has a family they aren’t prou-”, Will started till Hannibal slowed down in front of his house.   
  
The Bentley was turned off and Hannibal relaxed the firm grip he had on his steering wheel for the last hour. His tight jawline grew even more stalwart as he kept himself from breaking into angry shaking. He was truly urked and the Omega in his car knew it just by demeanor alone. Will popped up the lock of the Bentley and exited in a cautious hurry and Hannibal’s tenseness dissolved. He soon took chase to Will till they were both on the front porch with no escape between the Alpha and Omega. 

  
Will ran a hand through his curls and averted his eyes away from Hannibal. A glimmer of humility slipped through and Hannibal offered his hand.   
  
“I didn’t mean to be such a barbarian with my attitude, William. Today has been a challenging day.”, Hannibal said remorsefully. “Please don’t think of me callously.”   
  
Will turned his head and looked down at Hannibal’s open hand. His face was draped with a warm smile and he took Hannibal’s hand, allowing himself to be led into his home— _ or into a wolf’s den. _ .. 

 

~*~

 

“—I’m not going to ask again, darlin’”, Nigel slurred as he swirled his beer around.   
  
It had been like this for hours — She wasn’t talking at all. Blood was caked all over Nigel’s hands and shirt but, he had decent alcohol. On the other hand, Freddie wasn’t looking  _ alright _ . Her curls was soaked with the blood seeping from her head — Nigel may have went overboard with the complimentary wine bottles the hotel issues. She was barely coherent let alone in any shape to even open her eyes. Nigel took another drink of beer before getting off the couch, stalking towards Freddie, and then crouching down to be at eye-level with her. Her bruised eyes found his rich crimson and they widened with fear.

“Who is this tart my brother has the hots for, huh?”, the Alpha asked.

He was dangerously close and Freddie knew that. From the abuse she had suffered through the long hours of the night, it was inevitable to deny her abuser any longer. She took a shaggy breath and swallowed the lump in her throat.   
  
“—He’s just s-some Omega.”, Freddie strained to say. “He isn’t that special.”   
  
Nigel administered a quick jab to Freddie’s knee and even that made her body barely twitch. She felt like a strung-up puppet with no feeling in her arms or legs. Had her body been so wrecked that it was numb to to the pain? It mattered little now as the jaws of the beast was ready to clamp down on her slender neck.   
  
“He must be special enough if my dear twin can’t keep it in his pants.”, Nigel said and moved away from Freddie.   
  
The Beta woman let out a shaky breath of relief but, it was quickly replaced with a sharp shriek when Nigel reeled back and swatted her with a good punch. The chair she was bound in completely knocked over and down on the floor she went. Now she was crying. Nigel cracked his knuckles and turned away from the mess of a woman on the floor. In a sickening way it reminded him of Gabi and in a single second, he found himself repulsed with the image. He retrieved his beer and drank the last of the fine brew.   
  


Nigel would rather be snorting coke off a stripper’s stomach than taking swings at a washed-up journalist. Yet no stripper could alleviate his curiosity for the Omega his brother fawned over like a fine jewel. He wanted everything Hannibal cherished most and pervert it in his own bare hands. He wanted to taste that sweet wine and turn it into vinegar in Hannibal’s mouth. He craved to see that eloquent, distinguished way his twin carried himself crumble into pure unadulterated depravity. Nigel is and always was the Mephistopheles to his twin’s Faust.   
  
His attentions turned to Freddie as the woman became dead silent. She was no longer crying but, had slipped into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness. That angered Nigel tenfold. He went behind the bar present in the hotel room and with the first glass he put his hands on, he cracked it against the counter. The crash scared Freddie back to reality just in time for her eyes to bear witness to the next abuse. Nigel held a shard of glass and slid his finger down the jagged blade; pricking himself in the process. He did not wince or indicate any pain as his finger seeped with sanguine as he approach Freddie lying on the floor. He crouched down next to her and held the glass shard dangerously to her eye.   
  
“Do ‘ya know the phrase ‘see no evil’?”, Nigel asked, a small grin wrinkling across his tanned face.   
  
Freddie began to hyperventilate as the blade came closer and closer and closer to her eyes. There was foam dripping from the corner of her mouth as her body was lax but, her mind was racing with delirium. It was inevitable. The shard unforgivingly pierced through her eye and wiggled freely as Nigel pushed his sadism to the extreme. Her screaming did not wake a single soul as Nigel dug deeper and deeper till the vision in her right eye was completely gone. The pain was so grand that in a mere instance she was out again as blood gushed from where her eye was mutilated.    
  
Nigel held the small visionary organ between his fingers and sliced the cords hanging onto it. It was a bittersweet feeling rolling it between his fingers. He discarded the shard across the room and kept his childish focus on the small organ. That bright emerald green of the Beta woman’s eye now looked like bloody pea soup as Nigel squished it softly.  As his interest died, he popped it into his mouth and got off the floor. It had a rubbery texture as he walked towards the bathroom, running the bath tub faucet to rinse his arms off. He spit the remainder in the drain and made sure the chewed chunks got down the drain.    
  
He returned to the room where Freddie laid bleeding out and noticed a small, white-gold vase with some flowers in them. They looked like purple-blue church bells hanging down as Nigel approached them. They were beautiful and in fact, Nigel took a liking to them. A malicious thought came to mind as he gaffled up the flowers from their vessel and walked back over to where Freddie laid lifeless. He got back down on his knees and one by one did he stick the flowers within the torn up socket for once her eye once rested in. 

The sight was absolutely beautiful to Nigel as he stood up to examine his handiwork. He pondered over what word Hannibal and his tight-ass eloquent-like attitude would conjure.   
  
_ Magnificent? Grand? Paramount? _ Nigel went over dozens of prissy sounding words till he couldn’t keep himself from snickering. Once his laughing fit subsided, he was at work once more; discarding everything he may have put his lips or fingers on. He also grabbed the laptop Freddie was once typing on and slipped it under his arm. He took one final glance around the hotel room and from his pocket he found his lighter. He flicked the small thing and a flame was born. He threw the exposed lighter somewhere in the room and it took no longer than a minute for the bloodied  carpet to take flame.   
  
In no time, Nigel slipped back outside and into his vehicle. He took a deep breath and rubbed his still reddened fingers through his hair. He was craving nicotine. Before he could even fetch a cigarette, he remembered that his lighter was gone and chuckled softly to himself. That lighter had been with him since Romania and has been his lucky charm. It was a bittersweet way of getting rid of it but, Nigel could find another one.

_ He started his vehicle and drove off in the blanket of the night’s folly... _ __  
  


~*~

 

Dinner at Hannibal’s had been pleasant enough now that Will was full and was resting with a glass of red between his fingers. The fireplace Hannibal had in his sitting room was warm enough that it was lulling Will into a slumber. His eyes fluttered close as Hannibal came in from the hallway with a tray of more delicacies to offer. The Alpha quietly sat the tray down on an end table and watched warmly as Will slept quietly. He looked at peace when he slept. He didn’t have to worry of the monsters crawling at his feet or the horrors of the day.   
  
_ When Will was with Hannibal, there was no calamity brewing in his mind. _

Hannibal leaned down to push one of Will’s chocolate curls back till the profiler’s cell phone chimed. The Omega was quick to wake as he instantly dug in his pants pocket and flipped up the cell phone. Hannibal pursed his lips in slight irritation but, he did not make it obvious.   
  
“Jack?”, Will asked, his voice slurred with drowsiness. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his glasses from his lap.   
  
Hannibal sat on the edge of the loveseat and curiously listened.

_ If it’s Jack my brother had been dipping in the cookie jar again _ , Hannibal concluded as he could hear Jack’s grand voice through the cell phone.   
  
“―We’ll be there.”, Will said and closed the cell phone.   
Hannibal raised an eyebrow as Will sat up on the loveseat and scrubbed his face with his hands.   
  
“Its Freddie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the update because I sure as hell didn't feel like writing it.


	12. A Bouquet Of Gladioli (A Bouquet of Death)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another familiar body is found while something far dangerous lurks in the comforts of home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New update. I've made references to "The Divine Comedy" by Dante of Florence in this chapter which you can probably find a copy of online to read. Also there is a game and animated movie based on the work called Dante's Inferno but, I don't suggest it if you aren't comfortable with blood, guts, or extreme nudity and or if religion is dear to you.
> 
> Gladioli is a flower used alot at funerals so hence the title.
> 
> I'll see everyone next update. Thank you for supporting me for this long.

Chapter 12  
A Bouquet of Gladioli  
(A Bouquet of Death)

* * *

 

No human being deserved to die like Freddie did. Will watched a coroner wheel off a burnt, charcoal crisp like body into a police van. Hannibal held his breath at ungodly smell as firefighters finally extinguished the dying embers above. The entire air smelt stale with ash and death to the point Hannibal’s stomach churned painfully. Savage work like this could only be conjured by the most violent of people and Hannibal only knew of one other human being with the capability to do such; his brother. His flamboyant and destructive nature poured over this entire place like a flood, drowning and snatching the air from the lungs of everyone present. Like tendrils sprouting from the earth and strangling all that gets ensnared, Hannibal saw his brother’s handiwork in all of this. He himself had no fondness for Freddie but, not she or any other human being deserved his brother’s violence. It was absolutely distasteful.  
  
“No one deserves to die like that.”, Will commented as he watched hotel staff being herded into ambulances. “Not even her.”  
  
“You’re right.”, Hannibal responded, his eyes focusing on the scorched building above.  
  
“The Ripper doesn’t burn things. This is all too different.”  
  
Will met Crawford and Alana halfway across the parking lot and all three expressed their sorrow with simple nods and awkward embraces. The only Omega out of the three of them; both Alana and Jack born Alphas, but the most concerned of them all. Will couldn’t hide from the beasts that stalked and hunted his shadows yet, he was the only one who could expel them away. Unlike Alana, Crawford, and other human beings, Will was the beast tamer and could make any beast come to heel. Whether the beasts are human or inhuman, Hannibal saw the whip crack and snap in his Omega’s hands.  
  
Hannibal was at Will’s side once they all shared condolences. Jack, stone-faced and stalwart, only acknowledged Hannibal with a nod while Alana also gave Hannibal a hug. He took a deep inhale and smelled nothing but rose and something sugary. If it wasn’t for her perfume, Hannibal would’ve avoided her and her sweetly-sick Alpha musk. Female Alphas were relatively common but not common enough to have a better smelling aroma. It wasn’t as potent or raw like a male Alpha but, it was enough to make even Betas uncomfortable. It wasn’t a very natural smell.  
  
“Sorry we couldn’t have met up at a more comfortable time.”, Alana chided, sounding slightly pained and saddened.  
  
“Where there is disaster, there is salvation.”, Hannibal replied, sounding a little too philosophical for the situation.  
  
Alana smiled and left the embrace. Their eyes lingered on one another till Hannibal broke the connection and turned his attentions to Will and Jack.  
  
“Well did she have family?”, Will asked. “She had to have someone.”  
  
Crawford shrugged. “We’ll know by the morning. Right now we still have a crime scene.”  
  
Will scoffed and Hannibal smirked slightly. Even Alana who was both a judge and a jury in these kind of situations raised her eyebrows towards Jack.  
  
“What crime scene, Jack? The whole floor was nearly burnt to a crisp.”, Alana questioned while pointing to firefighters still spraying water onto blackened wall.  
  
“It’s the middle of the night, Jack. We need some daylight.”, Will complained. His eyes were still heavy with sleep and even for once, Hannibal agreed with both Will and Alana.  
  
Crawford crossed his arms and eyed all three of his colleagues in front of him and especially Will. The Omega only twisted his lips into a frown towards the glare and Hannibal stepped into his defense.  
  
“We are struggling, Jack. Even killers need their sleep. Further investigation can proceed in the morning.”  
  
Not even Jack couldn’t disagree with the other Alpha and called his pack of wolves he called a team to stalk back to Quantico. He gave one glance to Hannibal then to Will and disappeared amongst the flurrying bodies. Like King Arthur and his knights Crawford shined through them all. His overwhelming pride and sense of duty that made him the role model to many was the handicap that would cast him down to earth. Hannibal took Will by his shoulder and lead him back to his Bentley. Alana made her own exit back into her own car and drove away.  
  
“Perhaps I can make dinner without distractions this time.”, Hannibal jested as he started his prized car.  
  
“The night’s still young, don’t count on it.”, bluntly replied Will. He fixed his glasses in the mirror and stuck them back on his face.  
  
_Young and still screaming like a newborn babe._ Hannibal pulled off and out the parking lot they left with a parade of ambulances, police cars, and vans following them out…

 

~*~

 

Hannibal may have been the more intelligent out of the twins but, not as clever as he thought he was. Nigel easily found the spare key his brother hid in his cobblestone mailbox. Not exactly the hardest thing to find but, Nigel was within his brother’s home and getting quite the impression that this facade his twin built was as fragile as a spider’s web. Everything whether it was furniture, paintings, and even the carpet was hand picked to be apart of this bloody masquerade. It smelled of nothing but high class cologne and his brother’s signature musk. It wasn’t a repugnant musk or even a pleasant musk but, something that differed in Nigel’s to such a degree if it wasn't for knowing where his twin lived, he would think this was the wrong house.

Entering into the living room he saw only more vintage art mounted on the walls and less and less of what little humanity the other Lecter twin still held onto. There was no family photos, though there was only a few that the family took, or any other heirlooms around which made Nigel sulk a little. Did his twin really despise the family he once and still has now? He looked around a little bit more then eyed a cabinet across the room.  
  
On further inspection, there was fine liquors and wines stored inside and Nigel helped himself to some bottle he couldn’t pronounce the name of. The gun he still had underneath his shirt poked at his back and he took it out, placing it on the dark coffee table as he drank. He was a patient man by default but, the sudden itch to wrap his fingers around his twin’s throat and strangle the holy hell out of him made him antsy. It’s been over a decade since they last met let alone stood face to face. There wasn’t much to talk about between them. If there was, it was buried in the ashes of their childhood estate.  
  
Lamenting on the past wasn’t going to do Nigel any justice other than bring back old pains. He retrieved a cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it with his lighter, taking a long drag, then exhaling through his nose. Almost a quarter till midnight and he already wanted to crash but, he had to wait for the dragon to return to his lair…

 

~*~

 

Hannibal pulled his Bentley into the driveway and sighed. He looked over to the passenger seat and noticed Will was fast asleep once again. He looked nearly angelic with his face half illuminated by the sensor lights above. So pure and fresh-like Will looked once his demons stopped chasing him during the day. Hannibal caught a stray curl with the curve of his finger before pulling his keys out the ignition.

He walked to his porch and unlocked the door. He would  return to retrieve Will from the car once he himself got settled and turned some lights on. Instantly he smelled it. His nostrils flared and a horrible taste boiled in his throat. It smelled of cheap tobacco and stale body spray. Hannibal walked down the hallway as quiet as a church-house mouse till he caught a glimpse of cream blonde hair just like his own. He paused in the middle of the entryway and stood ever so patiently.  
  
“It’s been quite some time hasn’t it, Nigel?”, Hannibal said out into the darkness of the living room.  
  
The air stifled with intense animosity and strife as moments of silence dragged on lazily like thick, smothering smoke from a cigar. A lamp clicked on and sitting on the dark-colored sofa did the embodiment of wrath and pride sat. Stringy hair covering predatory red eyes stung like daggers in Hannibal’s flesh.

 _There he was, the Dante that plunged into the fiery hot inferno to kill Lucifer from himself._  
  
“So it has, ‘annibal.”, Nigel lifted his head and licked his tongue over his teeth.  
  
Hannibal returned the gesture with a pursed smiled and began unbuttoning his jacket. He carefully folded it and sat it on a nearby shelf then cracked his bony knuckles, each one snapping painfully.  
  
“Then let’s finish what we started then, dear brother of mine.”

 

~*~

 

A hundred embers crackling in the midnight blue sky while corpses crawled and writhed themselves away from the scorching blaze. Will watched them from afar with a gas can in his hands. He was smiling so crookedly that if he smiled even further, his face would contort permanently. Their screams of agony and prayers for release was like a crescendo of the epitome of what human suffering was. The profiler enjoyed it all as the flames licked higher and higher into the sky.

From the blaze, a pure cream-colored body naked and hairless from the heat danced through the scorched ash. Will caught emerald green eyes within the flurry of ash and dropped the gas can. The naked body danced and swirled closer to him till they nearly touched at the lips. Those hauntingly familiar eyes caught his own grey and once again did the body bounce again. The feminine form bounced and pranced away with the writhing bodies and Will was suddenly engulfed by the own hungry flame he had birthed.  
  
The dream came to an abrupt halt as Will jumped in his seat. Still buckled in Hannibal’s car he looked around nervously. The psychiatrist was out the car and he was left in the passenger seat. He scrubbed his face with his hands and took a deep breath. His dreams were getting more vivid and excruciating with the passing nights and it was becoming quite the issue. Will unbuckled himself from the seat and exit the car.

The breeze of the night chilled him underneath his flannel as he stretched his arms. Before he thought of walking to the front porch, a viciously loud pop startled the chill from his skin. Without thought, Will raced to the front porch and nearly broke down Hannibal’s door in the process. His heart skipped numerous beats as he raced down the darkened hallway and nearly tripped. The hot, invading smell of blood and anger washed over the Omega in full force as he picked himself up off the hard floor.  
  
He held his breath as he could visibly see Hannibal, his friend and most trusted confident, on the floor with blood gushing from his shoulder. He was kneeling but, Will could visibly see bite marks, deep gashes, and bruises littered all over his exposed, tanned skin. The profiler looked to where Hannibal was looking up to and his legs felt like jelly.  
  
_It was like looking into a mirror,_ Will caught his heart in his throat as he saw that jet black firearm, _a bloody mirror._  
  
The same almost platinum blonde hair and cherry red eyes looked to Will and the Omega nearly collapsed right there. He didn’t have his gun on him or did he have any kind of superhuman reflexes if the gun was to fire.  
  
“—...Will…”, Hannibal slurred out, his tone drugged with pain.  
  
Just as the profiler was about to turn and run back down the hallway, another bullet found its home in the wall near Will’s face. He reeled back to the opposite side and held his ear, dull with the ringing gunshot, and looked back at the firearm.  
  
“Stay, darling.”, the heavy European accent swam around in the room. Will got more of a look at the assailant; other than having a hauntingly resemblance to Hannibal, he was simply dressed in an ugly-printed vintage bowler shirt. His face was more wrinkled and scarred than Hannibal’s own but, his eyes, deep and carnivorous made Will shudder in his own skin.  
  
“So you’re the Will Graham.”, the man questioned with a crooked grin. “I thought you’d be smaller.”  
  
Will was lost for words. Even if he could conjure words to slip past his tongue, he doubted that it would be anything intelligible. His eyes never left the firearm as Hannibal tried to stand, nursing his wounded shoulder and using the wall as support. His eyes darted to Will and they softened. The Omega was panicked inside and out yet, there was no tears or fright drenched on his face. If it wasn’t for the situation, Hannibal would commend Will’s hidden courage.

“—Nigel.”, Hannibal said weakly. He turned to his twin and furrowed his bloodied brow. “Don’t har—”  
  
“I have no intent on hurting your prize, my dear brother of mine.”, the other Alpha chided. Nigel still kept his gun trained on Will as he stalked ever so close to the Omega but, once he was close enough it focused on the other Lecter twin.  
  
Will looked at the red eyes that poured hateful magma from them. He was shaking but, even if he could muster the courage to defend himself and Hannibal, it would be in vain. The Alpha was close and his musk nearly choked the living hell from the profiler’s senses. It was like being engulfed in vinegar and vodka. It took hell of restraint for Will not to vomit on the bloodied bowler shirt.  
  
Nigel’s face came closer to the Omega’s as he took an inhale earning a weakened growl from a disheveled Hannibal Lecter while earning a disgusted groan from the fairer gender in the room.  
  
“You’re like the cigar to my bourbon, darlin’. I can’t wait to taste you.”, the other Alpha whispered.  
  
Nigel backed off before Will could try and grab him, whisking back between the Omega and his twin between the hallway. Both of their stares, storm grey and blood red, shared the same vigor and animosity that Nigel could bathe himself in it. He had played his games far enough and saw what prize that could be stolen. He tucked his gun underneath his waistband and with nothing more than a smile, he stalked down the darkened hallway and out the door.  
  
Once he was sure that the assailant was far gone, Will rushed to Hannibal’s aid and supported him with his shoulder. He led the injured Alpha to lay on the couch while he frantically looked around for something to gauze the bleeding abyss in Hannibal’s shoulder. The Alpha was quiet except for his stifled groans of pain yet, never once did he cry out. Will grabbed a throne pillow and ripped it open, taking the stuffing out and sticking it onto Hannibal’s wound. The psychiatrist could scold him later about ripping such exquisite fabrics. Will kept pressing more and more fabric on Hannibal’s  wound even though only little blood was soaked by the thick cotton.  
  
“Will, I’ll be fine..”, Hannibal reassured as he too examined the wound. Only the butt end of the bullet poked from the wound and could be extracted with some medical expertise.  
  
“No you’re not fine! I’m going to call the police.”, Will said panic-like as he left Hannibal’s side to find the house phone.  
  
The Alpha sighed and took in the damage of what his violent twin inflicted upon him. Other than the gunshot wound, he was relatively unscathed except for the bruises and  deep reddish-purple bite mark under his collar bone. Hannibal could admit he ended up as the unvictorious in this game his brother played so childishly. Yet he was still bitter that Will had to witness firsthand Nigel’s negligence and their family quarrels. _It was rude to be exact_. Hannibal waited quietly as Will returned with the house phone and now had a bowl of water and a towel.  
  
“I called for the police. I’m pretty sure Jack will be here too.”, Will said softly, focusing his hands on wetting the towel then twisting the excess moisture.  
  
Hannibal smiled as Will dabbed at his wounds with the wet towel. A genuine kindness and fragility was settling in Will’s eyes as he swabbed the towel gently over Hannibal’s tormented skin. Though he was still panicked and on edge, Hannibal could see the perseverance he knew the Omega was capable of. The profiler returned the towel into the bowl and sighed. His hands now wet and bloodied was such an appealing look for him.  
  
“Thank you, William.”, said Hannibal as his free hand cusped Will’s cheek, fingers running over the coarse hairs of Will’s ever returning beard.  
  
The Omega lightened up and  moved from Hannibal’s embrace.  
  
“—Who was that, Hannibal?”  
  
The psychiatrist flicked his tongue over his bloodied lip and trained his eyes on the vase of white and violet gladioli on the fireplace mantle. There was no point to lying to the Omega, he was sharper than that. To any regards, both him and Nigel shared a face that even a blind man could recognize.  
  
“My brother.”  
  
Will returned to cleaning Hannibal’s wounds as police sirens echoed nearby. There was no surprise or question escaping Will’s lips as he continued to dab and swab at angry red cuts and bruises.

  
“Should I ask how he knew me?”  
  
“It’s for the best. Of course till Jack and his officers question us.”, Hannibal replied, slowly raising his back off the couch.  
  
Will quickly ushered him to lay back down with both of his hands on his chest. Their eyes met for a brief moment before darting away from one another.  
  
“It’s all for the best.”, Will agreed.

 

~*~

  
Nigel nearly collapsed in his sleazy motel room upon arrival. His body ached and roared to be taken cared for as his bowler shirt was completely blood red. He stripped it off sluggishly and left it to stain the already crummy motel floor. He took note of his appearance in the cracked mirror near the television and smiled proudly. Bruises and deep teeth marks where his twin nearly ripped a chunk out of him littered his torso and neck yet, Nigel was completely  entranced with his victory. Of course he would need to mend his wounds with bandages but for the time being, he wanted to savor the pain.  
  
Throughout their life, he and his brother battled for superiority over one another but, the greatest triumph had yet to be claimed — the panicked Omega that didn’t even flinch away from his gun. He was truly a prize that Nigel would go tooth and nail with anyone on this planet. Now that it was a little past 2:00 A.M., Nigel had opened the laptop he retrieved from Freddie’s hotel room and powered it up. It instantly showed the tattletale crime website with some kind of document opened. He read the opening headline and nearly bursted into laughter.  
  
“ _Crazies in love? Shocking note from a secret admirer to Will Graham.”_  
  
He didn’t need to read the complete article to find himself wiping tears away. Perhaps he was a crazy fool kissed by Cupid’s arrow. Who wouldn’t be batshit in love with such a creature? Nigel saw the ‘publish’ button on top of the document screen and clicked on it. After a few seconds on the front page the article was front and center. Nigel powered down the laptop and opened the motel door, slinging it somewhere out in the darkness. Some drug-fiend would pick it up and wander off with it by morning.  
  
He laid back on the hardass bed and took in a deep sigh. In moments like these his thoughts only wandered to Gabi and Bucharest. Two evil women that pulled him by the arms constantly back and forth. He missed home and dearly missed his Gabi but, he couldn’t just let his brother have that tender prize waiting to be unwrapped.  
  
_And so drunken in love Nigel was, he was willing to tear the world asunder to have a taste of such a god-like creature as Will Graham…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some people may know, I'm starting my senior year this upcoming Monday and this may be the last update for maybe a month or so depending on how well adjusted I get to my schedule. I hope everyone will understand I am not one for fandoms or being apart of one. Fandoms in general to me are quite problematic so I tend not to interact with anyone else except for myself or maybe a really close friend. So please don't be offended if I dont show the same enthusiasm you may show towards the fandom or TV show. I just find it easier to stay on the outside.
> 
> Also you can contact me via twitter if you ever wanted to ask questions or comment on anything. You can also leave comments below and I'll get to them as well. I hope everyone has a good rest of the year and completes their goals.


	13. A Bouquet Of Peony (A Bouquet of Healing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Hannibal recovers in the hospital, Will has the time to reflect on recent events and his own nature. Nigel comes to a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this long awaited expansion as I continue to flesh out the end of this work. If you have any questions, concerns, suggestions, or even praises I would love to see them commented down below. I wish everyone a happy holidays and that you're safe and happy.
> 
> Also it would be a big favor if you happen to see any forms of my work posted anywhere else that's not AO3 that you tell me about it and ask the poster (nicely) to either contact me or take the work(s) down. I'm not sure if this has happened to me as of now but, I've known alot of people having their works copied and altered on other sites. It's somewhat a fear but it would be a big thank you from me to you if you keep your eyes peeled.
> 
> ~jxkuzure

Chapter 13   
A Bouquet of Peony   
(A Bouquet of Healing)

* * *

 

 

It was very  _ different _ to see Hannibal in hospital attire with a bandaged shoulder. Though the psychiatrist was content with the personal items Will had scavenged from the house before the police completely locked them out, he never  _ once _ complained. When nurses and doctors came in to check on his health, Hannibal merely smiled and jested with them then returned to his reading or to his writing. It was slightly unnerving how calm he was. Will would sit by his side with his hands tightly gripped around a styrofoam cup of frigid black coffee. He was uncomfortable sitting in the hospital room for so many hours. Hannibal reassured that the Omega could leave at any time he desired but, Will was glued to his post. On top of the stress from the previous night, he was shivering with illness. His forehead was dotted with sweat along with queasiness in his stomach. He hadn’t eat much in the last few hours other than the salentine crackers Hannibal scrunched his nose at along with the complimentary breakfast the psychiatrist hardly touched.   
  
In a lighter muse, it was amusing to see Hannibal refuse every morsel the nurses tried to give him. Like a stubborn prince who cared not what his subjects put in front of him but, what he desired like any prince would. Whether it was jewels, wine, or even bread, Hannibal was  _ such an icy prince. _   
  
“Will, are you feeling alright?”, Hannibal asked with his eyes still explored in his book.   
  
Will shrugged his shoulders and crossed his legs. 

“I’m just tired. It’s been quite a night.”   
  
The psychiatrist closed his book and sat it down on the table over his lap. He gestured for Will to join him on the hospital bed and the profiler hesitated. Never once had he been so physically close to Hannibal other than handshakes. He didn’t find the psychiatrist to be of the intrusive type but quite frankly, Will was never comfortable with other human beings. Other humans, which in Will’s definition, other  _ walking flesh bags _ are too unpredictable and scandalous under the flesh. His legs ushered him to stand and guided him to sit on the edge of Hannibal’s bed. To the psychiatrist’s jubilance, Will swung his legs onto the bed and laid back, his curls resting underneath Hannibal’s chin. In the gentleness of the moment time seemed to lapse in complete serenity. Neither of them talked, but listened to the constant chatter of nurses and the beeping of machines. It felt almost natural to be this close. Will closed his eyes and took in the moment.

_ How long has it been since he’s felt kinship even if it in a time of duress? _

It all felt too surreal to be happening. Will never once imagined he would ever get this close to Hannibal yet a lot of things have been changing these last few weeks. In times like this, Will was content with calmer moments like this.

“Are you still feeling ill?”, Hannibal’s concern snatched Will from his runaway train of thought.   
  
Will took the arm that wasn’t pinned under Hannibal’s own and pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ It hurts _ . At least he was still in his vessel of a “body”. All this daydreaming and worrying had him balancing on a tightrope between what is real and what is not.    
  


_ Like Alice who drunk the wine and took the pill. _

  
The nausea before still swirled and churned in his gut but, until Hannibal asked again that's when stomach decided to tip over. He caught hot, searing bile in his throat and he launched himself off the hospital bed, reaching the toilet in the bathroom to finally retch. It was just as foul and torrid seeing it floating around in the toilet as it was throwing it up. Hannibal had painfully raised himself up into a sitting position just as a nurse that was passing by rushed into the bathroom, her gentle hands coaxing Will’s back as he purged the burning acid from his carcass. Another nurse had swarmed in to make sure Hannibal’s condition was still sound then also joined the same nurse who was now running cold water in the sink.   
  
Will groaned deeply as he rose and quickly flushed the toilet. His glasses had fallen in the midst of his purge and remained undisturbed on the tiled floor. He grabbed them and they rested on the bridge of his nose. Will was guided by the first nurse; a petite Omega woman with large eyes and olive skin, as the other nurse hissed at the sour smell of the vomit still faintly creeping from the toilet. This nurse was a stocky, unpleasant looking Beta male with a receding hairline. From the hospital room, Hannibal took note and kept his attentions towards Will.   
  
It was a debilitating state not to be able to administer care towards the profiler. Hannibal could only keep his hand across his bloodied wound and let his heart grow ever darker with the smoldering wrath he held for his dearest twin. Thinking of his  _ twin _ , Hannibal had dug his fingers into the bandages and little by little did it bleed some more. The Beta nurse had finally noticed and came to Hannibal’s aid, taking the psychiatrist’s bloodied hand off the bandages and inspected the wound himself. As he worked on getting swabs to clean the wound and fresh bandages, Hannibal kept his gaze focused on his recovering friend. Something had been off the moment he had taken Will to his home the previous night. Had the devil with a similar face hadn’t appeared from the dark crevices he crawled from, Hannibal would have noticed Will’s state and tended to him properly like any doctor and friend would do.   
  
_ But now, he has been maimed and gouged like what a matador inflicts upon the bull. _ __   
__   
Hannibal had clenched his teeth so hard that they started to grind against each other. He stopped himself once the Beta nurse peeled a wrapper off the large adhesive bandage. His shoulder still felt  __ foreign even after meticulous doctors and their nurses successfully removed bullet fragments residing in his wound. It didn’t matter now. Hannibal already devised his counterattack against his twin. In a sense, it was their fate to kill each other. They were born clawing at one another as the doctors separated them from their mother. Since that fated day, it was only natural one of the Alpha twins would perish by the maul of the other.   
  
Will and the nurse accompanying him had returned back into the hospital room with the profiler still green in the face. Hannibal tried to raise up further but was ushered by his own nurse attending to his wounds.   
  


“This isn’t the time to be moving, Mr. Lecter”, the nurse had harshly scolded the Alpha. Bitterly, Hannibal took a more personal note to dispose of his temporary caretaker once he was freed from the prison of a hospital Baltimore Memorial was.   
  
Will turned around and hastily grabbed his coat, his blue eyes normally fogged by aspirin and the lack of sleep morphed into soft gentleness Hannibal was lucky enough to witness in their most private moments. The profiler dragged his eyes away from the wounded psychiatrist as he continued to gather his overnight gear.   
  
“I’m going to the pharmacy downstairs, Hannibal. I’ll come back later, if that's alright?”, Will said softly as the Omega nurse had cooed him to follow her. Hannibal beamed at the promise of Will returning and was content with the Omega leaving. 

Soon after the Omega took his leave, Crawford descended upon Hannibal like a hawk to a snake. The Beta nurse took his leave as well as Crawford pulled up a seat near Hannibal’s bed. He appeared to be more worked up than his usual facade. There was files under his arm and Hannibal took his gaze from them. Though he felt no empathy let alone concern for Miss Lounds, Nigel was beast without a collar. As gruesome as her demise was, Hannibal would return the favor with equally if not more extensive treatment once he wrapped his hands around his twin brother’s throat.   
  
“Is this a bad time, Doctor Lecter?”, Jack asked as he already opened the first file. Hannibal could see the crime scene photos from his posture and sighed. It made no sense to to decline Jack now as he already began to delve into the gruesome, morbid scene all over again.   
  
“You just missed William, Jack.”, Hannibal had told him. “He wasn’t feeling too well.”   
  
Jack pursed his lips in displeasure but, continued to go over photo after photo till the foot of Hannibal’s hospital bed became a collage. Hannibal just watched him quietly. He felt the slight ooze of blood dribbling from his wound again and he lowered himself back down into a laying position.   
  
Crawford had begun going over every meticulous detail of Freddie’s murder as Hannibal began to sink into the grasp of sleep. His eyes lazily watched passing nurses and patients in the hallway as his breathing slowed. His soft, dainty eyelashes kissed one another as he pulled himself to slumber. He could still hear the Carmina Burana by Orff one of his aunts was fond of during his childhood playing sweetly and so tempting to lure someone into a waltz. He was fast asleep by the time Jack had gone through the first set of photos he had brought…

 

* * *

 

The sweetling of a nurse that Will was accompanied by left him in the pharmacy with a suggestion of anti-nausea syrups and fluids. There was only the few pharmacists tending to their stockpile of medications and a few elderly patients cruising through the long aisles of pills, syrups, and serums. Will was relieved that he didn’t have to get a ride halfway across the city just to visit the pharmacy he normally haunted. His sweats had chilled to his skin as he browsed through the dozens of different types of medicines. Some medicines he never thought existed for the most meager of conditions. In particular, he was searching for something to stave off his natural  _ plight _ . It was common for Omegas in particular to take natural supplements to keep their cycles in tune with their schedules but, Will wasn’t common. He had been so poisoned with caffeine, aspirin, and hard liquor that not even his own body didn’t recognize how to normalize itself. He suffered with night sweats, shivers, and the occasional hallucinations that dared to claw his sanity into pieces. Nothing compared to the searing, unbearable cramps he would suffer through most of the month. Will would be so crippled by the pain that his own dogs was trained to fetch items during the duress.

  
Will found the anti-nausea syrup the nurse had suggested and tucked it under his arm, turning the aisle into the supplement aisle. He read countless labels from temporary birth control like  _ Omegastrin _ to heat cycle relaxers. He cared little for the brand let alone its ingredients as he grabbed two boxes and made his way to the counter. An Alpha pharmacist with a gentle smile and round glasses greeted Will as he sat his products on the counter. The pharmacist took a glance at the products then raised an eyebrow at Will. The profiler bit his inner cheek and got out his wallet from his coat. As he counted the bills, he could feel the other pharmacists that once were attending their work further behind the counter took notice as well. Will flushed cherry red as the Alpha took the money offered and rung up his receipt. The items were bagged and as quickly as Will could move his legs, he escaped the pharmacy.   
  
The air of Baltimore was stale with dried rain and smog as Will stood in front of a fountain. There were families sitting near a coffee kiosk as little kids skipped and chased after one another. Will smiled at them enviously. The amount he would trade to have innocence glitter in his eyes once more. He was a man near forty and innocence had escaped his grasps years before. He secretly hoped those giddy children would never have to experience the torments Will had suffered as a young man; there were too angelic to be spurned just as the profiler was. Before he could tear up, Will walked away swiftly back into the main hospital. He was checked in again and escorted by the same burly, not so friendly security guard that was once posted outside Hannibal’s room in case his attacker returned to finish the deed.   
  
_ His attacker, _ Will hadn’t thought about it till now but,  _ Hannibal’s attacker was himself. _

It was still uncanny that a man like Hannibal Lecter, so private and only intimate with the fewest of people, had a polar opposite like his  _ brother _ . Compared to the lavish suits and splendid dinner parties Hannibal had plenty of, his brother seemed to be someone who fancied plainer clothes and less profligate interactions. Though they had only met between behind a barrel of a gun and blood on them both, Will’s curiosity only deepened with Hannibal’s reluctance to talk on the subject. Will was persistent though. He desired the truth but, craved deeply for justice. It took a few hours between the shock and grueling police questioning for Will to connect the dots. He came to the conclusion that it had to be Hannibal’s twin brother that was responsible for Freddie’s death if not knew something of it. Not too many people knew details about the profiler other than those at the Bureau. It mattered little now because Hannibal refused to shed light on the matter.   
  
The security guard left the Omega’s side once they reached the wing Hannibal was in and Will was perfectly capable of finding his way back to his friend’s room. As he crept in, he noticed someone else had been present because of how the furniture was rearranged; the tables and chairs were all facing Hannibal’s side of the room. The profiler noticed Hannibal sleeping blissfully and a short smile beamed across his face.

_ He looks so vulnerable _ , Will caught himself thinking as he carefully placed his belongings within a closet. He tiptoed into the nearest seat where he could study Hannibal’s pilant face even more. He could see every wrinkle, every little freckle that couldn’t be noticed far away, and all the art Hannibal’s skin was. It was quite entrancing to watch Hannibal like this. In fact, it borderlined  _ passion _ .   
  
As Will was so hypnotized with Hannibal’s sleeping form, he was startled when the psychiatrist’s eyes fluttered open and maroon orbs focused on his own storm blue. The psychiatrist beamed for a moment before his eyes shut once more.    
  
_ Hannibal trusted Will to the point he could sleep peacefully without a doubt or a care. _

Will got up from his chair and ventured out into the open hall of the wing. He strolled through countless rooms where patients and their families resided. Some were happy while others mourned quietly amongst themselves. It may take some time for Hannibal to open up more into the most private details of his life but, it was not his place for Will to rush. Had it been himself, he was confident that Hannibal would focus on recovery rather than detrimental ruin. That's what Will envied in Hannibal. Patience in the face of strife. His calmness as calamity brewed in their midsts. Like a stalwart knight protecting his majesty, Hannibal never surrendered to perils that could cause his own demise. 

Truly, Hannibal was Will’s dearest and most protective of friends and heavens be damned if a devil wearing a matching face could sever their pact…

 

* * *

 

Wolf Trap, Virginia was a quaint place if not out in the middle of nowhere. Nigel parked his car off the highway and strolled his way up to to a home that could’ve seen better days. Of course it was lovely in its prime but now, it was a shell of its former self. Weeds grew over the garden that once lined the walkway and Nigel noticed holes dug by canines countless times had been left to grow bigger and deeper. He had almost stepped in a pile of shit if it wasn’t for him actually noticing more than just the dug up weeds and grass. Miss Lounds’ laptop became quite useful even after her  _ untimely  _ demise. She had uploaded every single detail about her  _ hauntings _ onto her drive which lucky for Nigel, she never logged out of. Nigel walked up the creaky steps and the moment he got to the third one, a flurry of barks and whines came from inside the house. He came up to the window and looked through the glass. Several furry bodies scurried back and forth and around the living room as Nigel peeked in. It was quite a pack Will Graham had acquired if Nigel would say so himself. None of them were purebreed let alone any dog breed Nigel could recognize.   
  
In general, he loved canines over felines and reptiles but, to see so many furry, barking creatures within dampened his mood. The pistol tucked under his shirt would feel the heat of a bullet ejected once more if these dogs weren’t hospitable. The Lecter twin fixated himself on the lock but to his surprise, he didn’t need to apply his more criminal of talents. He turned the doorknob and in an instant, he was pounced upon by a gang of canines lapping, licking, and nipping at his clothes. He pushed away the biggest of the dogs off of him and regained his footing. His wounds ached with the sudden physical exertion but, Nigel pushed his way into the house.   
  
_ Either the dogs are friendly or I’m a familiar face, _ Nigel noted to himself as the dogs dutifully followed behind him, still nipping and yapping at his heels. The living room itself looked like it was the only room in the house that someone lived in; there was: blankets, dog toys, clothes, dishes, and other things strewn about. Nothing was in order except the skimpily equipped kitchen plus a microwave. Nigel paced towards the refrigerator as the dogs gave up and returned to their respective spots amongst their master’s cushions and blankets. He opened it and took note of the groceries inside. They were newly bought given that the milk was untouched along with meats and vegetables still in their packaging. There was no alcohol to Nigel’s disappointment. He closed the icebox and looked through the cabinets; more newly bought canned foods along with pet foods. Once Nigel saw the cans of pet food, he looked back at the pack that still had their adoring eyes fixated on him.   
  
They didn’t appear to be starving or in need of anything. Nigel closed the cabinet and when he walked to the kitchen island, that’s when he noticed there was several bowls lined up against it. They were all somewhat filled except for the water bowls which Nigel reluctantly made himself refill them at the kitchen sink. The only bowl he noticed that had a name scratched into was “Winston”. He said the name aloud and out of all the furry creatures, a small, mixed color dog with shaggy ears raised its head. It got off it’s cushion and came to Nigel, tail wagging high and joyful. Nigel leaned down and gave Winston a scratch behind the ears which triggered the whole pack to line up for the same affections.

Once all the dogs had been “loved” and had their water bowls refilled, Nigel let them out the front door. They all yipped happily and delved into the woods around them. The Alpha had no time to waste on playing with dogs and being a house nanny. He went up the stairs of the small home and entered a small bedroom. There wasn’t much to look at downstairs let alone upstairs. The bedroom only consisted of a futon-like bed, a half-empty closet, and smaller effects. It wasn’t much but in Nigel’s opinion, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Hannibal kept his  _ treasure  _  bedded and feed in his own home.   
  
_ Hannibal always took care of his toys, _ Nigel grinned at the memory of Hannibal always counting and fixating his toys every evening when they were children. The other twin couldn’t imagine if one his prized toys let alone any toy was abused under his care. Of all things Nigel could have bullied his own twin on, he dared not to come in between Hannibal and his amusements. Until of recent, Nigel kept that code of honor till his eyes feasted on an jewel locked away to never see the light of day.

Neither twin dared to trespass into each other’s realms or its possessions. Hannibal had his manor, his fancy suits and ties, and his socialites to keep him amused while Nigel had strong liquor, women, and all the drugs in the world in his own. Yet when he first laid his eyes on Will Graham in that cafe just weeks before, it was an instant attraction. Perhaps deadly by default but, truly Nigel hadn’t felt that way about anyone.  _ Not even Gabriela. _

Nigel sat down onto the messy bed and took the only pillow into an embrace. He burrowed his nostrils into the fabric and felt his heart skip a few beats. Besides the scent of dog, it smelled of sweetly-sour sweat and other scents that not even the finest cologne could replicate. Nigel took a deeper inhale and sighed raggedly. Of all the liquor and women he could have on this mortal earth, this scent was simply blessed by the heavens above. He threw the pillow aside and went back downstairs before he found himself drunk off such scents. He lounged on the couch and kept his eye out the window. The dogs played happily as the woods remained still. No cars could be heard for what seemed like miles and miles.   
  
That fact alone sparked an idea. As distant as this place was, it was a perfect place to dispose of someone. With winter would come heavy snow as what Nigel knew from the brochures he received during his flight, it would be very easy to keep a body buried in the earth until the thaw. Of course with woods came predators and the Lecter twin was confident that even the hungriest of wolves and bears would tear into a human carcass as if it was a deer. He lolled his head back at the idea and nearly bursted into laughter. How exhilarating it will be to wrap his fingers around his twin’s throat as he would squeeze and choke the dear life out of him. How immensely pleasurable it would be to take Hannibal’s prize right in front of his dying vessel. To have Will Graham seated fully onto his length and begging for him while listening to Hannibal’s last breaths, Nigel smirked and giggled like a child on Christmas morning. 

He hardly could wait. He stopped his fantasies dead in their amusing temptations. If he were to rush the final demise of his brother, Nigel could easily falter and find himself on the other end of the flaming sword. Things as intricate as this takes meticulous planning and calculations. Killing Freddie Lounds wasn’t in the details yet to Nigel’s advantage, it did confirm Hannibal’s affections for  _ his  _ treasured Omega. He wanted Hannibal unhinged and alert. He wanted to feel his twin’s blood pump and thump in his body before he ripped out his throat with his maw. And with all things Nigel wanted, he would take it as viciously as he desired it. If that included Will Graham, he would lay his claws into that supple flesh and mount his prize.

_ All good things come for those who wait,  _ Nigel reminded himself as he got off the sunken sofa and opened the front door, ushering the dogs to come back inside. As the furry beasts slipped past his legs, he made sure to count every single one. He did a recount to be sure and judging by the food bowls, all the dogs made it in. Winston, one of the smaller dogs, rubbed against his legs and pawed at his pant leg. Nigel smirked and gave the dog once last rub before the rest of the pack noticed. He shut the door behind him but in a moment of fleeting concern, he opened it again to turn the lock. It was quite amusing that he cared for the welfare of the pack of his prize rather than just leaving them as they were.   
  


Whoever had planted the groceries inside must’ve had a key so it wouldn’t matter anyway if the house was locked or unlocked.   
  
Nigel dragged out his smokes as he began the long stroll back to his car. The cool fall breeze chilled him through his clothes as he lit his cigarette. The smooth, smoky taste of his flavored nicotine warmed his chest as he got into his car and started it. Nigel could wait as long as he needed if it meant he could rip asunder Hannibal’s kingdom and claim his spoils. He’s had years to contemplate his conquest and no longer will he be treated as the inferior twin, destined to inherit nothing, cursed to forever live in his twin’s shadow.   
  
_ As the most beautiful angel of Heaven lead his rebellion upon the Father,  _ Nigel would sacrifice his charred wings if it meant the hand of the most untainted of all souls. And if that meant snatching the seat of the Father himself, he would gladly cast his brother into the bowels of Hell like it was meant to be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question: If Will could end up with anyone within this work, who would you most likely believe/theorize who it could be?  
> A) Hannibal Lecter  
> B) Nigel Lecter  
> C) Both Lecter twins  
> D) Neither Hannibal or Lecter  
> E) Another character
> 
> Could you please comment an answer and tell me why you chose that answer? Even some of your own outcomes? I'm very curious as of everyone's thoughts on the story thus far and would like to continue to amaze/surprise/etc.


	14. A Bouquet Of Red Roses (A Bouquet of Fiery Passion)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is finally home from the hospital and comes face to face with his past while Will sorts out his feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time but, here's another update and soon we'll be at the very end of the work. :^) I just want to say another big thank you for everyone reading thus far and I hope you continue to read and share with your friends.

Chapter 14

A Bouquet Of Red Roses

(A Bouquet of Fiery Passion)   
  


After two agonizing weeks of hospital food and the constant chiding of nurses, Hannibal was released from the hospital with a note not to overstrain his shoulder.  His Bentley was returned home by the good graces of Alana so he ordered a taxi. It wasn’t often that Hannibal paid for carpool but, he couldn’t risk his prized automobile with his injured shoulder. His driver was a burly, well-kept Alpha man with thick curls and heavy accent. He was quite the conversationalist as he asked Hannibal about his profession, how his day was faring, and even if he had a wife. Of course Hannibal kept the small talk pure and simple for the sake of privacy yet, he was still immensely amused by the conversation. He never thought about marriage let alone finding himself indulged into the family life. When he did have those thoughts, they were always conjured towards Alana and in the deepest most intimate of musings, it drifted towards Will. Hannibal personally never considered himself a man married let alone a father. He loathed his parents’ coupling and saw it more as securing a strong, stoic bloodline rather than compassion. 

_ Perhaps it was time to do the same but this time, it’ll be more than what his parents’ dowries were promised to be. _

The driver pulled up to Hannibal’s home and the psychiatrist paid him greatly. He even got the taxi driver’s number in case he needed his services again.

_ A meal noted _ , Hannibal caught himself saying on the way to the front door.

By experience, Hannibal was well-versed in following the doctor’s orders but, for any prolonged time could not be followed. His absence from his home and his kitchen resulted in inventory to ripen which Hannibal cleaned out the moment he stepped through the door. His home was still in disarray from the previous week’s incident; blood still soaked into the carpet and a gunshot lodged into one of the mahogany columns. He would have to call the cleaners for his tarnished carpet and a carpenter for his column. 

His kitchen was most likely the only pristine area of the house if not including upstairs.  With his home in such need of care, his practice was a nightmare. There was an infinite amount of appointments that needed rescheduling and even some referred to a different psychiatrist. Nigel had disrupted the system for which Hannibal kept in stasis for so many years with one encounter.

_ Like a fly who slipped into the web to be devoured by the eight-legged stalker. _   
  
Hannibal pursed his lips at the sheer thought of letting Nigel haunt Baltimore while breath still pooled in his chest. He was even more infuriated that he allowed Nigel to live as long as he’s had. The psychiatrist had always hoped his twin’s dangerous, nocturnal lifestyle would grant him his early death but, as resilient as the Lecter family was in name and body, Nigel inherited that trait. The strings for which every bead of fate lingered on couldn’t be denied and it was destined that if one twin had to perish, it wouldn’t be Hannibal. He has toiled too long and hard to have his birthright snatched from him like a babe at the breast.   
  
Leaving his vengeful musings for another time, Hannibal realized the absence of Will in both body and voice. Since he left the the Alpha’s hospital room that morning, Hannibal hadn’t caught a glimpse or a whisper of where the profiler may currently be. Hannibal didn’t let his mind wander to the more dire or potentially deadly outcomes Will could be spurned into. If Nigel had common sense still drilled into his skull, he would know not to even  _ breathe _ near the profiler.   
  
Hannibal found his house phone returned to its receiver though bloody fingerprints had dried up like a sea shell bleached by the sun. He picked it up anyway and began to dial. He held the phone to his ear as he took in more of the destruction his living area. There was blood,  _ his blood _ , deeply soaked into the cushions and a destroyed pillow; courtesy of Will’s effort to prevent him from bleeding out. The line clicked and Hannibal’s mood went from mildly passive to elated.   
  
“―Hello?”, Will answered. His tone was doused with drowsiness as Hannibal could hear the dogs yipping in the background.   
  
“William, I’m really pleased that you answered the phone. You sound well.”   
  
“If well is the word, I feel like the  _ healthiest _ man on the planet.”   
  
Hannibal has had his fair share of sarcasm but with Will Graham, it either meant he’s functioning or he’s borderline about to power down. The Alpha paid no real mind. He was so joyous that the Omega,  _ his soon-to-be _ , was alive and well. There will be a time where Will will only ask for  _ him _ and only  _ his  _ care. Oh how he ached to have life return to normal without a damned hound snarling in his shadow.   
  
“―Did you make it home ok? I saw your Bentley in the driveway but Alana told me she had dropped it off.”

  
“Yes, I’ve made it home safely. I am quite grateful you tended to me that night. Who knows what may have happened if you weren’t present.”   
  
Will let out a disgruntled sigh and Hannibal caught it on the other side. Even if they were hundreds of miles apart, it was almost kinetic that Hannibal could feel Will’s reluctance to take credit on saving his life. The Omega was stubborn by nature but it was a fool’s folly that made him keen.   
  
“Speaking of that night, Hannibal, we reall-”, Will had started before Hannibal slashed his words short.   
  
“Will, may I propose we have dinner this evening? I can make reservations at this beautiful restaurant I have yet to dine at.”   
  
There was a long, cold pause between the Alpha and Omega. The dogs yipping in the background quieted as Hannibal could hear the locks of Will’s house being fiddled with. It stopped and Will, once again, took a deep breath and sighed.   
  
“I’ll see you at 7pm then.”, Will said and a few seconds later, the line clicked dead.

  
Hannibal laid his blood-caked receiver down on its base. At times, Will could be abrasive and ever defensive yet, Hannibal didn’t find himself offended by the behavior. Seemingly as weeks go on, he found himself excusing Will’s behavior more and more. As infatuated as Hannibal was with Will, it was nearly driving him  _ mad _ . There wasn’t a moment while Hannibal was in the hospital where he wanted to grab the profiler by his shoulders and embrace him right there. He dreamed it every night as the monitors beeped their ever annoying lullaby. He craved it every moment when Will was around. The Omega’s movements, no matter how subtle they were, played over and over like a record in Hannibal’s subconscious.   
  
The psychiatrist abandoned his musings and went upstairs to adorn himself for the evening. It was rare that Hannibal ate anything other than what was  _ butchered _ and  _ prepared _ by his own hands. However, his kitchen and his stock had been compromised and he couldn’t afford to have his  _ aggressor _ snatching opportunity from him. He chose the darkest suit within his wardrobe and admired himself in his mirror. He was the example of pure, unflawed and precise breeding. He was a canvas of tanned, hardly blemished, and refined skin and physique. Unlike the members of his creed, he didn’t rely on testosterone or the natural strength it seemed every Alpha mustered up for some reason or another. He favored the fortitude of the mind and the inner knowledge that some would mock as a Beta or even an  _ Omega _ trait. Hannibal couldn’t blame them. The world was meant for Alphas to mount and claim their birthrights; though some would argue that Alphas left what was bestowed upon them in ruins once their bodies turn to dust.

Well-dressed and gussied up for the occasion, Hannibal returned to his ruined living space and retrieved his iPad. He had several hours before he would have to pick up his  _ date _ and his schedule definitely needed a good rearranging. Hannibal ordered cleaning and restoration services for his home while he read emails involving his patients’ and their needs. It was a start to another day without an  _ accident _ but, the psychiatrist didn’t expect the order to last long. He knew Nigel Lecter more than anyone else and perhaps more than the  _ Devil _ himself. He was a cunning creature by default. His younger twin always envied his shadow. By birthright, Hannibal had every affection, attention, and achievement given to him by their parents. There was never a second where a servant or a family member wasn’t praising Hannibal for the most simple of things.   
  
_ Yet that didn’t apply to Nigel. _   
  
Nigel was a terrible if not the most wretched of children. He was torturous to the house staff; leaving animal remains in the most obscure of places around the house or worse. He was a hellion if all matters. Nigel caused anarchy no matter where he was confined to. The deepest and most heinous of Nigel’s anarchical tirades had been when the family took a trip to Italy. It was a hot summer; the hottest anyone could remember at the time. Hannibal and Nigel had been left to their own devices while their parents visited adversaries both great and powerful. Most of the servants had gone with them and it was only Hannibal and Nigel’s personal maids with them. One by the name of Juliette, a woman of thirty with the darkest hair that even at night it appeared to be a mass of black webs, constantly stayed by their side. She had a soft soul but, Nigel harassed her constantly. Hannibal was fond of her as if she was his own sister. 

On this particular day they had decided it would be better to stay at the estate their parents recently purchased. It was a quaint place with more windows than anyone could imagine. There hadn’t been too much furniture inside given that their parents bought it weeks before they left Lithuania. There was a pool that could serve as a lake in the yard and the twins were constantly waddling in it. Juliette and the other maids had joined them in the pool as well, a rarity since the older members of the Lecter family forbade their servants from interacting with their children unless it was to service their needs.   
  
Hannibal had began fixing schedule as he could still imagine the fish-like, haunted look Juliette had on her face as the other servants pulled her from the pool. Her skin still shimmered like pearl as one of the other servants, Maurice, desperately tried to resurrect her lifeless form. On the other hand, Nigel wadded on the other side of the pool with not one concern. His darker, richer colored eyes just watched as the flurry of servants then later local law enforcement arrived onto the premises. He didn’t leave the pool till they took Juliette away. Hannibal could still pictured her bright, turquoise bathing suit peeking out from the translucent body bag. The servants that hadn’t left with law enforcement stayed with the twins; taking them from the pool and cleaning them up before their parents came home. They were grief-stricken but, hid it behind pleasantries and obedience. It took nearly half a day for the Lecter elders to return home only to be angered that their servants were  _ incapable  _ of the task given to them. Now that Hannibal had remembered that day, he did question why didn’t his parents seem to mourn the death of their employee. In fact, Hannibal remembered himself feeling morse after she was taken away. He liked her very much. She was the only of his family’s staff that didn’t grovel any time he blinked or just walked into a room. She grew up well-educated and beautiful. In fact, Hannibal could recall many an occasion where he had asked for her counsel.   
  
_ To him, Juliette was his equal and not someone to shame because of her biologically predestined creed. _

Nigel still didn’t reveal why he held a woman nearly twice his elder under for so long nor why he chose her. He had latched his talons onto her and held her down for her to ultimately suffer the most torturous of deaths. It was solely him that held the scales of Juliette’s life and death. Hannibal only assumed that it was because she in particular didn’t treat Hannibal as if he was a god chiseled from the earth.    
  
_ Nigel didn’t want Hannibal to seem that he’s a human being not to be feared or disobeyed. _

His twin wanted him to be on that pedestal to create the dynamic that he was the  _ inferior _ twin and he had to prove himself to not just his parents but, to the entire Alpha-dominated world. He needed that crutch to build upon his strength, inflame the anger of being the second-born, and ultimately the bad blood he’ll need to eventually  _ kill _ Hannibal. That’s what made his twin the greatest foe he’s ever faced. Nigel knows exactly what he needs to kill Hannibal. It wouldn’t matter if it was his bare hands, a gun, or a knife. It’s the years that Nigel’s had to live in his brother’s _ golden  _ shadow that inspires him to do what he does. It’s the fact that  _ Hannibal _ was the one that was promised and that Nigel was a product of overzealous, prideful parents. He could easily kill a human being; man, woman, or child, Nigel was a vicious animal. Hannibal could admit that he was just as predatory but, he had a  _ standard _ . Hannibal took no joy in killing for the sake of the act. To kill a human being is to strip a bird of it’s wings. Wings were essential to a bird’s survival and without them, the bird will be swallowed by the greedy, ever-craving orifice of the earth. Humans in Hannibal’s eyes were nothing more than walking meals to be butchered, prepared, and savoured with fine wines and good company. But, what could Hannibal say? That his existence was the very reason why Nigel turned up this way? 

Fate is a fickle mistress that desires the finest jewels and the worst of lovers. Whether Nigel came for Hannibal with the whole world bending the knee to his scourge, he was ready. Decade after decade, Hannibal honed and perfected his craft. He’s learned the best knifework from world-famous culinary pioneers. He’s hunted with the greatest huntsman on the face of the earth. He knew monsters in great variety.   
  
_ Fear not the man but, the beast that stirs when it tastes blood. _   
  
Hannibal continued to work on his clientele as he grinned. Woe may be upon him yet, he craved to see Nigel spurned beneath his hands. He wanted to choke the living hell out of the hellion Nigel spurned himself to be. He wanted to rip open his carcass and eat his beating heart. As Hannibal clicked onto letters on his iPad during his murderous musings, the front doorbell chimed from down the hall. Puzzled, he closed his iPad and ventured to his front door. As he opened the front door, his entire demeanor shattered. The planets fell from their cosmic alignment and everything seemed to slow. Hannibal held his breath but, it was already tempered with red-hot vicious vitality.   
  
“Dearest brother, oh how I’ve missed you so.”, the Devil clad in hot-black leather mocked.

 

* * *

 

His dogs piled on top of him like a mass of sweaty, furry combination of legs, paws, and tails. It was past noon when Will decided to wake up again. Beneath his mound of dogs, he reached his hand up to check the watch still strapped on his wrist. He groaned beneath his blankets and ushered his pack to relieve their post; most of them scurrying towards the front door. He let them out to frolic in the freshly watered grass and he plopped right back down on the couch.   
  
Will was a mess. He couldn’t count the hours he had lost count or slept away. It was amazing that he survived another week at the Bureau without having a severe breakdown. As much coffee, aspirin, and now hard liquor Will was consuming these last few weeks, it would be no surprise to him if he collapsed and perished. His body was tired. Between his biological nature and the mental abuse he suffered through after every crime scene, he was ready to give up. He had no family to grieve him let alone take care of his affairs. When he departed from the mortal plane, he would leave nothing behind to trace, to cherish, or to  _ remember _ . That was for the best. Will didn’t want anyone to have to mourn him after his time was gone. Of course he had his pack but, dogs aren’t the same as humans. They could grieve and be happy for their rest of their years. Humans, on the other hand, constantly  _ grieve _ . By default humans grieve for those long-passed. Whether it was an elder or a junior taken from their reach, no human could simply forget their loved one. It scars those who live rather than those who accept death’s cold embrace.   
  
Will pulled himself off the couch and waddled to his bedroom upstairs to find a fresh change of undergarments and placing himself underneath the warm spray of the shower. The water trickled down his darkened curls and beaded on his skin. It’d been awhile since Will’s taken a shower. It wasn’t that he couldn’t get upstairs, he simply just lost count of time. Ever since Hannibal was placed in the hospital, it was all Will could picture when he closed his eyes. What would’ve happened if he wasn’t there? Hannibal could have died that very night and Will would be out in some cemetery in Europe laying flowers on his grave. There wasn’t a waking moment where Will couldn’t imagine the darkly-red blood sticking to his fingers or Hannibal’s pale face as he tried to keep himself from bleeding out. Some nights, Will’s conscious conjured monsters tearing at Hannibal’s flesh, ravaging and feasting upon his innards. Will couldn’t save him while he slept through those nightmares. He was bound and constrained to his place as he watched as Hannibal pleaded and reached for him; his maroon eyes just as red as the blood between the monsters’ maws gorging on his body.    
  
Will stepped out of his shower and stood in the mirror.   
  
_ He’d changed so much in such a short time frame. _

His face wasn’t as plump as it had been before nor did his body seemed to match his skeletal frame. His body has slimmed down to the point Will could see a bit of his ribs poking out. No wonder why his clothing didn’t feel as tight as they used to be. His hair had grown as well; nearly brushing his shoulders as thick curls still damped from the shower dripped. He pulled shaving cream and a razor from his medicine cabinet and started with his beard. The thick, coarse hair fell into the porcelain sink as he shaved away inch by inch. He had been invited out to dinner with Doctor Lecter, a first by any standard, given that Hannibal never ate anything that wasn’t crafted by his own  _ perfected _ hands. He wasn’t as excited for it let alone could he muster the feelings to be at least grateful a human on this earth still considered asking on his welfare.   
  
There was true, deepened feelings Will had for his friend and psychiatrist yet, he feared what it meant to his nature. It was natural to feel affections to other classes such as other Omegas, and Betas, or even Alphas. Hannibal wasn’t the average nor was Will the average Omega. There was a bond between them that couldn’t be severed, well, not willingly anyway. It was deeper and more carnal than nature intended. In the quietest time of Will’s mind, he still hallucinated the feathered and horned damnation haunt. He would watch it stalk and crave for his flesh. The creature dared not to get close yet Will could still feel its glazed, opal eyes dig into the back of his skull. 

_ It drives him absolutely mad... _   
  
The profiler examined his look and sighed. It was the best he could do. His face was soft and feminine like now that the excess hair had been cleaved off. He took his finger tips and brushed the prickled skin. He was so sensitive to his own touch that he quivered. His body felt foreign to him now. It seemed to control his appendages all on their own accord. His fingertips lingered on his face before they brushed past his neck, down his chest, and phantomed dangerously close to his sex. He brushed the lifeless organ and left it there. It was devilishly and so intimately warm to awaken his sex with his own hands. He massaged the soft, hairless skin of his member and with precise administrations, he was doubled over his sink with warmness between his fingers. He caught his breath then cleaned himself up. He changed into his fresh clothes and went downstairs to allow his pack to come back inside for lunch. Dutifully his dogs went to their food bowls and dined happily on the food given to them. Will still had to feed himself but, he was content with coffee and a bite of bread. He still had some time before Hannibal would by to pick him up. It would be such an inconvenience for Hannibal to drive up so far just to pick him up for dinner. The profiler thought of packing an overnight bag so the doctor wouldn’t feel obligated to rush him back to Wolf’s Trap. He could lock up the dogs for the night until he returned the next day.   
  
He left it at that as his dogs crowded around him once more. They yipped, whined, and nipped at him as they too craved attention. He was no different from them after all. Will reached down to embrace his dogs and sat there against the kitchen counter.   
  
_ What a walking disaster he had turned out to be… _

 

* * *

 

Nigel looked at the dark red tea swirling in his cup then up again. Through his thick, porcelain white eyelashes he could see Hannibal moving back and forth through the kitchen. As dangerously close his older twin was to his razor sharp cutlery, no knives or cleavers had been projected yet. Nigel leaned against the island counter with the teacup in his hand. He enjoyed the game he had crafted with his twin. He loved to pull the strings and make Hannibal bend to the rules. Yet with this visit, Nigel was breaking his own set of rules. He wasn’t a sore loser by default though others would argue. He couldn’t play the game if one of the key players was incapacitated.

Hannibal’s shoulder was still in its sling and Nigel rolled his eyes at the fact. Of course he was meant to kill and not maimed but with Will, as doe-eyed and angelic as he looked, Nigel wanted that extra danger to the game. He knew his twin was the spiteful kind of man that would enjoy choking the living hell out of him. The grand prize was too delicious to pass up and Nigel planned to savor every morsel of flesh at the end.   
  
Nigel took another look at Hannibal as the psychiatrist wiped down countertops. He was dressed  _ well _ and not the usual suit attire. It had to be Armani if not greater if Nigel knew his suits correctly. He licked his lips and sat the teacup down on the island counter.   
  
“What’s the occasion? Is it for that Bloom woman I’ve seen you fawn over.”, Nigel asked, playfully giving his brother a wink.   
  
He caught another menacing stare from the Lecter twin. Like sharp knives being stabbed into the skin and being turned, Nigel turned his back to Hannibal again. He searched his pockets for his cigarettes and slipped one between his lips.   
  
“Mother always told you not to frown, you’ll get those wrinkles.”   
  
Hannibal ceased his cleaning and turned around to face his twin. Burgundy stained eyes met magma-red as Nigel flicked a cigarette between his lips. There was a moment of brief silence other than the faint sound of a lawn mower groaning in the distance. Nigel’s heart beated so hard in his chest it nearly felt as if it would burst out at any moment. The adrenaline burning like wildfire in his veins prompted him to be on his toes. Hannibal, as much as Nigel would hate to give him credit for, was like a tiger stalking in a deep, bamboo forest. His pelt may be an aesthetic to some but, all those stripes couldn’t hide the fact that he was a natural born  _ killer _ .    
  
“Why haven’t I killed you just yet, Nigel?”, Hannibal asked. “What has possessed me to spare you for all these years?”   
  
Nigel lit his cigarette and inhaled the deep, ash flavor into his chest then exhaled it. The game was beginning to slow and he knew that. With Hannibal being handicapped by his boredom, Nigel was feeling dragged along. His brother asked  _ stupid _ questions.    
  
“I don’t fucking know, ‘annibal. Maybe you have some kind of heart beneath those ugly as fuck suits?”, the other twin gritted out.   
  
He turned completely around and leaned over the island counter. He could smell the cologne on his twin brother; heavy yet pleasant to the smell, and he could feel himself wanting to lash out. He didn’t bring his gun with him this time but, the knives across the counter looked so tantalizing to equip. Hannibal came up to Nigel and leaned in on the other side of counter. Fire and ice is what they were. Hannibal, a frigid avalanche that threatened to cover all those caught in his wake, yet never loses his composure. Nigel, the lava churning and bubbling deep within the earth, was more rash and adventurous with everything he did. They were destined to exist on the earth to destroy one another. It was the way fate weaved them. Hannibal still questioned why he allowed the same hound that was at his throat just weeks before attacked him in his own home back within his domain. He too was beginning to think he  _ enjoyed _ beating Nigel at his own game.   
  
“One day, when you think you’re safe and sound with that  _ profiler _ you enjoy tormenting so much beside you...I’ll be there with a gun to your fuckin’ skull.”, Nigel hissed, blowing the smoke within his lungs roll out of his nostrils.   
  
Hannibal gritted his teeth and kept himself from ripping into his younger brother’s esophagus right there. He didn't have the time nor patience to have a hellion dawdle in his plans. 

“You think you aren’t the monster you believe me to be but, you’re worse than me. Just remember, you took the first  _ bite _ .”   
  
With that, Nigel lurched away and took a few steps back. He caught Hannibal’s hungry stare and smiled cheekily. He flicked his cigarette and extinguished it underneath his boot. He walked out of the kitchen and his footsteps crescendoed down the hallway. The front door creaked open but, slammed shut on Nigel’s way out. Hannibal took a deep breath and backed away from the countertop. He nursed his aching shoulder and looked to where Nigel had embedded his disgusting cigarette onto the floor. His entire body was screaming to run after the other Alpha and rip into his flesh like a lion does to the zebra. Nigel jeopardized everything Hannibal had to manipulate in order to create. The psychiatrist could only imagine what Nigel could expose to not just Crawford or the Bureau but, to  _ Will _ . Hannibal could care less if he was imprisoned in a thousand locks but, to lose Will’s trust would shatter his world into irreplaceable pieces. To imagine the hurt and disbelief in Will’s eyes to know that Hannibal was the cause of his sleepless nights, the demons that lurked his dreams, and the monster that stood in his shadow. Hannibal would rather  _ die _ than have that be bestowed upon Will.   
  
In fact, if Nigel would return to finish what fate had destined them to be, he would  _ perish _ if it meant Will would be spared the disastrous truth. He would fall to the deepest, darkest bowels of the earth if it meant Will’s mind would remain pure and unaltered with the truth. Hannibal caught himself grasping his chest and he opened a window within in his dining room; taking a breath of Baltimore’s air after the rains passed. He had to leave to pick up his intended. A drive would clear his head.   
  
Hannibal finished cleaning what little he could do with his damaged shoulder and left his estate. The beast for what his twin was had left ages ago and the only thing left of his presence had been the tire marks his sports car stained onto the pavement. He warmed up his Bentley and ventured towards the deep woods of Wolf’s Trap, Virginia…

 

* * *

 

Will hardly heard the warm purr of the Bentley pull into his driveway as his dogs rushed excitedly to the windows. Their barks echoed from the house as Will took one last look at himself in the mirror before rushing down the stairs to let Hannibal in. He had to admit he’d outdid himself; a nice, crisp white button up with matching slacks and a jacket still with its price tag attached. His curls brushed his shoulders and for once in his life, Will was able to tie them back into a ponytail. Hannibal would comment on the length of his hair but, Will liked the change.   
  
Will opened his front door and watched Hannibal walk up towards the front porch. He looked  _ perfect _ . Will caught himself biting the inside of his cheek as Hannibal stood in his doorway. He had aged so finely though Will had never seen Hannibal any younger. The way his tanned skin contrasted with his dark suit made Will’s chest feel light and airy.   
  
“You look…”, Will had begun but his cheeks filled with color. “Sharp.”   
  
Hannibal smiled widely. “As do you, William. Are you ready to leave?”   
  
The profiler nodded and ushered his dogs away from the doorway. Once they were inside and Will turned off the living room light, he locke the door beside him and walked with Hannibal back to the Bentley. The evening air was cool and sprinkled with rain. The Omega enjoyed the sudden coolness given that he’d been in a cycle of constant hot flashes followed by cold night sweats. Hannibal opened the passenger door for him and he climbed inside. The car was even cooler in the inside.   
  
_ He must’ve had the windows down _ , Will thought as Hannibal joined him inside and started the car again.   
  
He noticed that the psychiatrist’s arm was still bandaged and he sighed. Hannibal, as stubborn and invincible he would have others believe, was still a mortal man. Will wouldn’t say it but, he would rather have Hannibal admit that he was hurting rather than forcing himself to continue on. They pulled out from the driveway and onto the highway for which lead back to Maryland. Soft classical music played havenly from the car’s speakers as for a while, neither of them said anything. Will would look at Hannibal and catch the most subtle of movements; him brushing back a few grey strands or licking his lips. It was a beauty to behold Hannibal in the living flesh. At times, Will couldn’t believe that his  _ friend _ was even human. He seemed to chiseled to be any normal man.   
  
The evening sun lowered more into the horizon as Will finally decided to say something.   
  
“Hannibal, we need to talk…”   
  
The Alpha slightly turned his head but, pursed his lips and averted his gaze back onto the road. He knew exactly what the profiler was pressing for and tried his hardest to act oblivious.   
  
“We need to talk about what happened.”, the Omega pressed a little further.   
  
“I assure you, William, that we have nothing to worry about. I would never put you in harm’s way.”, Hannibal replied to him.   
  
“I know that but I would like to kno-”, Will had begun to say but, found that Hannibal was looking straight at him.    
  
His lips quivered and his eyes darted to look at anything but Hannibal’s blood-colored ones. He froze up. Even if Hannibal told him the truth, what would he do with it? Is the truth going to bring him any closure that Hannibal had gotten  _ hurt _ ? It was all too overwhelming and Will found that his eyes were watering. He brought his hand up to his eyes and Hannibal slowed the car to a stop on the side of the road. He looked over at the Omega and reached his hand over, softly brushing a stray tear sprinting down his creamy skin.   
  
“William, please...Just know that I’ll raze the world if it meant protecting you.”   
  
The profiler inhaled and his cobalt eyes found Hannibal. He nodded his head and accepted that Hannibal was his  _ protector _ . He was the Morningstar in his dreary, grey world. Hell or high water, Hannibal was there and if it meant he would die, he would die for Will. His thirst for the truth still remained parched but for once, the profiler decided he wouldn’t chase this demon if it meant he had a night with Hannibal. He finally had a night where Jack wasn’t rushing him off to the next inquisition of a crime scene. 

_ He could be free. _   
  
The Alpha started his Bentley again and not too much was said afterwards. Will would make a few comments on structures forgotten and abandoned on the roadside and Hannibal would quiz him more about the area. The evening air was still light and alluring. The sun kissed the horizon one last time as night loomed over and rested her violet head upon them. In all matters, Will was at peace with the world and the demons that lingered in it…

 

* * *

 

 

Their dinner was pleasant. It was the first time ever that Hannibal had invited Will out for dinner let alone at a restaurant. He didn’t seem fond of any of the meats served on the dinner and resorted to pasta instead. Will, on the other hand, found himself famished from the lack of a proper diet these last few days and ordered more than what he desired. Hannibal watched him adoringly as Will stuffed his face. He ate every morsel given to him and even some off Hannibal’s entree. It pleased the Alpha more to have his Omega counterpart so pleased. In fact, Hannibal pushed Will to eat as much as he liked. He noticed that the profiler’s frame had shrunk even if the clothes acted like an illusion. He could see how thin Will’s face had become and even more so now that he’d shaved his beard. Hannibal continued to watch Will eat but, he couldn’t help his eyes from wandering around the room. He caught the glimpses of waiters serve their customers and those customers devour much like Will was every morsel ordered. 

_ Like the farmer who fattens up his flock in order to meet the fate at the end of a cleaver _ .   
  
Hannibal saw nothing but meat to be stocked into his ruined inventory. He was particularly eyeing a Beta couple, if smell didn’t fail him, sitting at a table to their right. A man and a woman who looked to be distant; neither of them sitting close to one another let alone making eye contact. The woman was of slim figure with blonde hair while the man was slightly older but, still handsome if Hannibal admitted it. He made a mental note and turned his eyes back to Will. The profiler had finished what had to be his second dessert and he hunched over the table. Hannibal smiled and ushered a waiter so he could pay for the meal.   
  
He got up from his side of the table and helped Will from his seat. The poor Omega had stuffed himself with so much delicious food that he could barely walk. He waddled alongside Hannibal and they returned briefly to the Bentley.   
  
It wasn’t a long ride back to Hannibal’s home as Will had to keep himself awake. The frigid night air made the profiler shook as he watched other cars pass by. He looked angelic even when he was tired and ready for a long, peaceful slumber. He looked over at Hannibal and smiled.   
  
“I really want to thank you for dinner...I hope I didn’t break your wallet.”   
  
Hannibal found himself cracking with laughter as he kept his eyes towards the darkened roads of Baltimore. He didn’t mind paying for Will especially if it meant the Omega was content. Besides, money meant nothing to Hannibal. It was a mortal possession that no matter how much he gained or lost, it wouldn’t carry over when his time was over.   
  
“William, you know you can ask me for anything. I love to treat you like this.”   
  
Will flushed once more and turned away. He didn’t want to think that he could just  _ mooch _ off Hannibal if it meant Hannibal got some kind of joy from it. It made him a little uncomfortable.   
  
They pulled into the driveway and they both got out the car. Will stretched as Hannibal came around from the other side to guide him up to his front door. There was a pink slip on the door and Will read it. It’d been a confirmation note that some cleaning company had visited and that their work was successful. He had forgotten Hannibal had been in the hospital for so long that his house was probably just as trashed as it was from that  _ night _ . Walking into Hannibal’s house still brought back those anxious feelings that Will kept himself to not feel them. He could still see that a bullet hole was still drilled into a pillar. He shuddered but, moved past Hannibal to sit down. He took off his shoes in order to stretch out completely on the new couch he had happened to noticed he was on. His belly felt tight and he unbuttoned his slacks. He took a deep inhale and exhaled.   
  
Hannibal, on the other hand, was so jubilant with Will looking so full and content that he was standing there in awe. He looked so angelic and pure that Hannibal nearly fell to his knees to worship such beauty. Instead, he went into the kitchen and towards his wine cabinet. He took out the finest Merlot he had saved and poured two glasses. He came back into the living room where Will was lounging. He sat one glass down on the coffee table and sat at the end of the couch.    
  
Will had dozed off for a moment but, woke up once again as he felt Hannibal’s presence next to him. He smiled sleepily and rose up. He took the Merlot and gave it a quick sniff before taking a deep, thirsty gulp. It was gone as the glass was sat back down onto the coffee table.   
  
“Thank you for the wine.”, Will said and laid back down.   
  
Hannibal raised his own and sipped. The night was quiet except for the humming sound of cars passing by. The house was warm but, Will felt hotter underneath his clothes. His feelings for Hannibal hadn’t changed. He cared deeply for Hannibal yet it was starting to become more intimate, more amorous. His skin danced with warmth as he shifted his legs over another. Will felt embarrassed to be actually thinking Hannibal in that  _ manner _ while the psychiatrist was inches away from him. He bit his lip and did his best to just be satsified with the dinner he had.

  
Doctor Lecter took note of Will and his lips turned into a thin smile. He abandoned his glass and rose from the end of the couch. He caught Will’s eyes and that made him even more  _ daring _ . He ushered Will up with his finger and the Omega dutifully did what he was told. They stood face to face, body to body, and mind to mind. Will, being a few inches shorter, had to stand entirely straight up in order to meet Hannibal’s shoulders. They said nothing for a moment till the profiler began to tear up again. Hannibal caught more tears with his hands and he held the Omega close.   
  
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, William. If you feel at fault for what happened, don’t be.”   
  
Will’s tears followed with more as he grew uncomfortable with the sudden embrace. He felt so  _ guilty _ as if the judge, jury, and executioner had all condemned him. He couldn’t picture anything but that night. The barrel of the gun still burned into the back of skull whenever he closed his eyes and how the blood pooled onto the rich, light-colored carpet. Will latched his hands onto Hannibal’s sides and pulled him in even closer. In a moment, their skin brushed one another and the soft, plush feel of lips on lips commenced. Like a battle of dominance, Hannibal slipped himself more into Will. It was like velvet was melting between them as they shared salvia between them. Hannibal pulled Will up into a hold and the profiler hanged on for dear life. His shoulder ached dully but, he no longer cared for mortal pains. In this moment, he only wanted mortal pleasure. He carried his intended up the stairs and had him again on the bed, hands and limbs clumsily looking to attach to one another. Clothes being stripped and discarded with no care followed by gasps, moans, and more pleasurable notes.    
  
It was a crescendo of ecstasy between them. Hannibal pulled Will underneath him and buried himself between supple flesh. It was an entirely new experience. Neither of them ached for the other to stop. It was flesh upon flesh. Will tightened and squeezed around his lover. It was as if nature intended them to be so intertwined. It was what everything that Hannibal wanted. He was so deep and far within his  _ lover _ , his  _ prize _ , his  _ intended _ that he couldn’t rein himself back in. They both were too far gone within pleasure that the night dragged on slowly, never ending, and once it was all over they laid close to one another. Will was wrapped up beside Hannibal while he was resting peacefully on his side. Everything that he had planned fell into place. The stars aligned and the powers of the universe had worked in Hannibal’s favor. For once in his life, he felt truly  _ perfected. _ Nothing else mattered in that moment for he was blessed with the most beautiful of angels.

_ He had won the game... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took nearly three days to complete what I have started on this chapter and I have to say I'm really proud of it. I wanted this chapter to focus more on Hannibal and Nigel's past rather than actual plot because if you ever watched Charlie Countryman, you know that there isn't much to Nigel's story in the first place. I tried my best with what I could infer and imply about him and Hannibal's relationship and I'm sure it'll make sense to people who never read or watched the Hannibal series. If it doesn't, oh well? Anyway, my laptop is here so I hope to be able to update faster and perhaps in the next few weeks and few months I can finally finish this work and continue with something new. I really appreciate everyone who reads and especially those who comment and bookmark. I just love the support and I hope in the future everyone will continue to support my fandom works and my original content I'll have ready soon.
> 
>  
> 
> Like always, please leave any comments below and I promise I'll read them and reply to the best of my ability. I wish everyone the best.
> 
> ~jxkuzure


	15. A Bouquet Of Jasmine (A Bouquet of Faithfulness)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal and Will begin exploring the nature of their relationship as dark news brews on their doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few more chapters if I keep writing over 3,000 words which I normally do anyway. I can't believe I had wrote this in a span of a few hours because I got frustrated that I still hadn't finished this. Well, enjoy.
> 
> ~jxkuzure

Chapter 15

A Bouquet Of Jasmine  
(A Bouquet of Faithfulness)

 

It all felt very calming. Satin sheets rolled against his body like the lapping of waves against the shore. The soft, monotone humming of traffic just blocks away lulled him back to sleep. The morning sun trickled through the curtains and left the darkened room of mahogany and maroon with a warm glow. Smog hugged the city like a warm, wool coat on a winter’s day. It was all very pleasant. Will turned over in his sleep and pulled the covers over his head. He hadn’t slept so blissfully for weeks. He didn’t wake up in a pool of sweat or a mind scrambled with dreams of feathered stags or dogs yapping around him. For once, he was at peace. He rolled back over after some time and caught a glimpse of a figure passing through the somewhat still darkened bedroom. He felt around for his glasses which had been sitting on a nightstand. He polished the frames clean using the blanket and put them over his eyes.   
  
_Oh._

Will made out Hannibal’s stalwart, silent figure over by his walk-in closet. His silver hair, disheveled and crisped from sweat, stuck on his tanned skin like honey. Loosely fitting pants hung to his waist line and Will couldn’t help but admire, worship, and glorify the beauty of which Hannibal was. Hannibal turned and caught Will’s stare, returning it with a gentle smile. He was such a gentle, almost angelic kind of being. Will caught himself smiling from ear to ear seeing his confidant so blissfully unguarded. He threw the covers off his naked frame and rose to his feet. The expensive, well-tailored carpet tickled his toes as he walked towards the curtains, peaking through to look out to the world outside. Hannibal said nothing as he too glanced out of the window.  
  
“You’re so beautiful.”, the words slipped from Hannibal’s lips like fine liquor.   
  
Will caught himself intoxicated by such praises and hid his blush, shying away from the window. He felt his hand grabbed and was reeled back. Cobalt blue met blood red and their hands fumbled on one another’s flesh. Their lips clashed once more and their bodies pressed against each other in a fight of intimate dominance. Hannibal trapped Will against the window and caught himself indulging in sweet, plentiful ambrosia.   


“How much do you love me?”, Will’s lips poured.

 

Hannibal had his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he pulled.  


“More than any luxury in this world.”

Again and again did they bite, lap, and vocalized their wants. Will had a handful of Hannibal’s silver hair till he was startled by the sudden screeching noise of a vehicle turning from around the corner. They unattached from one another and watched from the window; a signature black Escalade pulling right in front of the manor.  


“It’s Jack.”, Hannibal said as Will shot to look for whatever clothes he still had in the room.  


“Always showing up when you don’t want him to.”, Will replied back to him as he gave up the search to find his actual clothes.  
  
He went into Hannibal’s closet and brought out the same pants Hannibal had hugging his hips. He attempted to tame his curls by running his dainty fingers through them but, if Will knew Crawford then he knows the Alpha hates waiting. Hannibal disappeared into the master bathroom and for a few moments, water could be heard flowing into the drain. Will looked in the mirror in the corner of the room and noticed his physical frame. He seemed more plump especially around his waist. He admired himself for a moment and slid his fingers underneath his waistband. He could still feel how _slick_ he was hours before.   
  
_Oh, that’s right. We did that._

Will had only been intimate only a few times in his life; none pleasant or worth the remembrance. He found it unnecessary at times given that he’d never thought he would be truly desired. He’d been mocked and ridiculed for his lack of masculinity yet, praised for the femininity his biology destined him to have. Yet when Hannibal wrapped his arms around him, he instantly melted. His skin was molasses and such pleasure nearly drove him mad. Will couldn’t kept his desires silent as Hannibal whispered sweet nothings into his ear. They’d tossed and turned in the heat of it all and when it was all over, Will laid entangled with Hannibal’s own body.

_If such pleasures were sins then Will was a sanctified heretic._

Hannibal came out of his bathroom more groomed and presentable. His fine silver hair was tucked behind his ears and his face had a dewy glow to it. He clearly had shaved too because his jawline radiated. Will felt his own face but, cared little for it since he hadn’t even showered.  


“We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”, Will said as he could see Jack emerge from his car, dressed in dark blues and greys.  
  
Hannibal hummed in agreement and left the bedroom with nothing more than the soft creak of the door. Will took a few more seconds to make himself look decent before he too followed Hannibal downstairs. The house was still dark and unnervingly somber. The wallpaper, though very expensive, was dark and brooding. The hardwood floor creaked and whined underneath Will’s feet. The profiler wondered if Hannibal ever felt _lonely_ in his own home. He wasn’t married or had any children as far as anyone knew. The only family he had was supposedly a twin he would rather choke the life out of.   
  
Will bawled his fists when he thought about _him_. Someone so familiar yet still a stranger. He could still feel Hannibal’s gushing blood between his fingers and remembered how that gunpowder made his nostrils flare.

 

_It was sickeningly to remember that Hannibal was willing to die for him._

 

Will ran his hand down the railing as he caught the glimpse of Hannibal and Jack entering the kitchen together. They spoke in hushed tones and quiet hisses.

 

_Something wasn’t right._

 

Will slid around the corner and watched Hannibal hug a coffee mug between his hands and Jack carrying a handful of files. They battled with their eyes; swords clashing against one another. Where Jack only gave Hannibal hostile glares, the psychiatrist returned them with calmness. He’d been so used to Jack and whenever he went into a tantrum that it was only second nature to let the agent rampage. Hannibal’s eyes bounced from Jack to Will once he caught the Omega looking from afar. Jack followed Hannibal and saw the profiler as well. Both of their demeanors became softer and Will fully entered the kitchen.  


“Will, you look…”, Crawford had begun but, was interrupted by the loud scream of Hannibal’s coffee maker.  


“Wrecked? Yeah, I’ve noticed.”, Will replied and reached into the cabinet for his own mug.  
  
Hannibal watched their interaction closely while his lips was pressed to the mug. He saw that glint in Crawford’s eyes when he saw Will’s disheveled, blissful appearance. Who wouldn’t desire such a beautifully bred specimen? With chocolate curls that kissed the ends of his ears whenever he turned or the deep, ocean blue eyes that drowned whoever found themselves caught in them. Hannibal, like many others, couldn’t help but be attracted. But unlike many others, he’d already wooed the gentle profiler.

Will brushed past Hannibal to partake in his own mug of caffeinated blues and the psychiatrist slipped his fingers through his curls. The Omega stopped and enjoyed the brisk moment but from across the kitchen, Hannibal could see a rise in Crawford. He made a mental note and allowed Will to continue prepping his morning coffee.  
  
“You’re here early.”, Will directed to Crawford as he poured quite alot of sugar into his coffee.   


“How did you know I wasn’t at home?”  
  
Crawford set the files down on the island counter and shoved his hands in his coat pocket. His smug, frustrated look told Will he’d better just listen. Hannibal turned his back from Jack and looked at Will blanketed underneath his curls. The Omega caught his worrisome glance and smiled softly. A silent exchange happened between them and Will braced for Jack’s verbal lashing.   
  
_You’re always worried about me. It’s cute, you know? I’m OK. I don’t need you to protect me all the time._   


“I’ll keep it short and simple. We have a new case.”  


“Of all the people you could call, you suddenly turn to me? What makes yo-”, Will interrupted, turning completely around to face Jack.  


“It’s Abigail.”

 

* * *

 

 

It was the same kind of morning like it was every morning. Almost quiet if it wasn’t for the choked sobs of girls younger than her in the room they all shared. Abigail threw the heavy, starchy wool blankets off her frame and was met with the same girls she grew to loathe. The same girls who could hardly maintain eye contact or they would begin to cry.

 

_The same girls her father would have killed._

 

They looked like wraiths; sullen and corpse-like. They _never_ smiled. The house they were assigned to never felt at _home_ . It felt as if they were all ghosts who couldn’t move on to the next life. The girls she lived with didn’t make it feel any more comfortable at all. From day to night they were always sad and depressed which at some point, it made Abigail feel _depressed_ . During meals and personal time all she could hear was _sobs_ . She hardly had visitors other than Will who hadn’t seen her in quite some time. When he came, he would have flowers of all sorts to brighten her room from the dreariness this place seemed to cling onto. Abigail knew he wished he could whisk her away from this place but, Abigail needed this to _heal_. Now that she was thinking about Will, she wondered if he was ok. Ever since he had rescued her from her father, she clung onto him like a dying light. She could still feel his lithe hands on her throat as blood gushed from her body.

 

_How sickly it must’ve felt to have hot, steamy blood running through his fingers..._

 

It didn’t matter much now. Her parents were dead and she had to live with the scars. Abigail gathered herself in the small vanity near her bed and peeled back the bandage stuck on her throat. It was still healing but, it looked alot better now. The flesh wasn’t so bright and angry looking anymore. Now it was pinkish and still scabbing up. Abigail reapplied another bandage that the medical staff had issued her and tied her scarf on top of the bandage. She had group today. She didn’t like going but, if she didn’t go then they’d call Miss Bloom. Abigail had nothing against Miss Bloom other than the staff called her anytime Abigail even slept in a few minutes late. She gave herself one last look into the mirror before she went down the hallway to join the other girls.  
  
The room they always met in for group reminded Abigail of a kindergarten classroom; drawings pinned up all over the walls and a sense of false childhood in the air. The windows were open but, there was bars between the shackled world Abigail found herself in and the outside world. The therapist, which Abigail forgot her name ages ago, was a Beta woman with grey hairs sprouting from her bleached roots. She sat poised and upright as the girls sitting around her, all Omegas, chattered amongst themselves in shy, hushed voices. Abigail took her usual seat next to a much smaller young woman. She jumped when Abigail shifted her legs but, she only relaxed when the therapist tapped a pen onto a notepad.   
  
“Good morning, ladies.”, the Beta woman chirped.   


“Good morning”, all but Abigail said in unison.  


“Are we ready to begin with today’s group?”

  
Abigail closed her eyes and distanced herself from the room. She felt water lapping at her ankles and the summer sun scorching her pale skin. She could smell the salt of the sea and feel the sand run between her toes. She was in an oasis in some far away place that no one could find her. She laid naked and allowed her body to be kissed with warm rays. She could hear tropical birds of all kinds sing their melodies in the thick flora above. Like many occasions when Abigail felt overwhelmed, she dreamt of this place. She dreamt of how free she felt and not shackled to what the past refuses to let go.   
  
_Here she wasn’t maimed or bleeding out._   
  
Abigail opened her eyes to the rich blue sky above her. She reached an open hand out and pretended that someone was there to hold it. Her lips pressed into a smile and when she closed her eyes, she was spooked. Her entire body yanked up and she found herself face first into the sand. A deep, almost breathy rumbling made the small island oasis shudder. Abigail looked from the corner of her eye and saw rich, black-like molasses drip in the form of a man emerged from the depths. It was a long, almost freakishly skeletal like frame that only had two distinct ruby holes for eyes. The waters around the island oasis turned oily and thick. Hundreds of tropical fish rose to the surface as they couldn’t breathe in such disgusting murk.

 

Her heart thumped and crashed around in her chest as she scrambled to run away from such a horrible monster. Her feet took her into the small, thicket of a jungle her mind conjured as she ran. The apparition stalked her close behind. Anything that black sludge tainted made it wilt and decompose instantly. She was running out of places to run. It felt as if she was being choked.  
  
As it came closer and closer, Abigail fell and stared up at the sludge of a man with tearful eyes. It smiled at her and nothing but black sludge dripped from its orifice. It too fell to its knees and crawled like a bottom feeder towards Abigail. She kicked and hollered at it to stay away but, nothing phased it. It’s gnarly orifice opened again to reveal a mouth full of razors and it gnawed at Abigail’s fair flesh. Her screams were silent as the tropical birds grew louder and louder till their tunes became screams of terror and their feathers turned dark. The black sludge ate away at her legs and thighs, opening her stomach to devour her intestines from her belly. Abigail’s head rolled back and a single crystal-like tear rolled from her eye socket.  
  
_This is what death feels like…_  
  
The black sludge was upon her again and it greedily took a mouthful of Abigail’s throat, striking straight down into the muscle and bone. Her body convulsed as the little life that her mind willed her to have. She rattled some more till her body gave its last breath and faltered. The dark, oil-like fiend stop crunching on her flesh and slithered back into whatever depths it had emerged from. For a moment, Abigail really thought she had died till the island was rid of dreadful, thick goo and sunshine prevailed once again. Her mind scrambled to make sense of it all but, Abigail was _tired._   
  
_Perhaps this is a sign that life isn’t as beautiful as it seems…_  
  
She wanted to dream of something else but was plunged back into reality when someone had tapped her shoulder. Spooked, Abigail looked to her right to see the Omega girl she shared a room with was staring at her just as shaken as she was. Abigail looked around the room and caught a dozen, frightful eyes piercing into her own chocolate brown. It was getting hard to breathe. Her hands found her throat and she swallowed hard. She got up from her seat and nearly knocked it over. The therapist called back for her but, she had already ran down the hallway.  
  
She slammed straight into the front door and let herself out. The early morning air smelled of pine, fresh rain, and the wilderness as Abigail caught a much needed breath. She took a look back at the house and found herself running into the upcoming treeline. She needed an escape _badly_. Her socks grew wet and muddy as she hurdled over branches and undergrowth and her braid became undone. She stopped when she couldn’t see the old, New England home in the background.  


As she ventured deeper into the woods, she could hear the soft, lapping noise of a stream nearby. She found some rocks to sit on and she sat and watched whatever flowed past. Her environment was colored with light pinks, greens, and oranges as spring had just barely kissed the woods. Abigail got out of her soaked socks and rolled up her pants. She waddled around in the stream for a while and was giggling foolishly. She didn’t know what was funnier; the fact she wasn’t dead or maybe she was dead and didn’t know it.

 

 _Her father should’ve killed her_ . She was just as responsible as him for luring those girls to their premature demise. Her laughs became tears and she squatted down and cried. If God was a merciful and forgiving one, could He exonerate her sins? Abigail looked up to see a bush of pure white flowers ahead of her. She wiped her tears on her jacket sleeve and waddled out of the stream towards them.   


_Jasmine flowers_.

 

Abigail recognized their soft, pristine petals as she rubbed them between her fingers. She didn’t think they’d grow so far up north and she grabbed a few to stuff into her pockets. It was the only opportunity she would have. She wasn’t supposed to leave the house under no circumstances and she knew by heart she would be on lockdown for weeks. They smelled as lovely as they looked. Abigail was so enraptured with the flowers that she didn’t spot the gaping barrel of a gun just feet away from her. She heard the bushes rustle and her eyes darted to the sound.  
  
From the thick growth, she could see the darkened, rubies she saw in her daydream mock her. Her breath caught in her throat and her legs turned to lead. Silver hair emerged and for a brief moment, she felt _safe._

 

It wasn’t till she could feel hot, burning metal in her chest and the harsh smell of gunpowder did she finally choke. Her body landed down into the dirt and it suddenly felt all too _real._ Her body convulsed and strained from the grave injury and the sky above seemed to unknowingly know of her impending demise.   


_Is this what I deserve, God? Is this your way of taking me out? Have I sinned my last sin?_

 

Abigail laid there with blood gushing out onto the dirt and into the stream beside her and it felt as if time slowed. Her eyes fluttered and kissed her bottom lids as it was getting _harder_ to stay awake. It wasn’t till a figure came into her view that she could faintly make out silver hair and dark eyes. Her lips dripped wet bubbles of blood as she tried to reach up for that figure but, another gunshot made it’s home on the other side of her chest.

 

_Oh. I guess I’m really dying this time._

 

Her eyes felt heavy as they began to close and her body screamed for salvation. In her last, brief moments she felt something land on her cheek. A jasmine had fallen onto her bloody wet cheek and began to stain it’s white petal. She could finally _rest_ . That sludge from her daydream lapped at her body and began to drag her deep into the abyss. She no longer felt sad, angry, or out of control. For once, _she was at peace_ .   
  
“Have faith.”, said the figure still looming above her with the gun drawn. “For that is what I have in bountifuls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of canon divergence as I flesh out the ending so I can finally finish this train wreck and take a break for once. I didn't feel like looking up where jasmine flowers grew let alone anything that's actually canon so just imagine everything is canon and nothing's wrong.


	16. A Bouquet Of Mock Oranges (A Bouquet for Liars)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The death of an innocent brings Hannibal and Will closer as Hannibal juggles whether to reveal the truth of his murderous counterpart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so tired. Really I am. When I started this, I'd thought it be over in less than ten chapters and now here we are at sixteen with five more planned in the future. I think what my issue is that I make the chapters so long which stretches the plot out and makes it just a nightmare. I should try breaking up chapters in the future.

Chapter 16

A Bouquet Of Mock Orange  
(A Bouquet For Liars)

 

 

 _Look how beautiful she looks covered in jasmine._   


Hannibal looked down with moistened eyes at the fawn he once cradled in his arms like a newborn babe. Her skin now dewy with the passing morning frog looked like crystal tears stagnated on her face. A streak of red kissed her jaw up to where the end of what was once her ear and left a nasty snarl. He wanted to touch her. All those jasmine petals caressing her body like exquisite velvet couldn’t hide the deep, bloodied hole where her gentle heart once was. Of course Hannibal felt affection for her but, he’d been so well-trained in the art of human emotion that if he wasn’t seen mourning for her it would be suspicious. A surrogate daughter she was, a daughter Hannibal would’ve wanted in another life. He himself would have eventually killed her once her purposed had been fulfilled.

 

 _This was Nigel’s violence_ . Hannibal wasn’t well-versed in firearms nor did he have need for it. Firearms _lacked_ the personal desire to feel blood rushed between his fingers. He desired the feeling of choking the life from someone, to have his hands snatch every breath, and to be the last someone see’s before Hannibal devours them.

 

Crawford stood next to Hannibal with his hands clutched around a styrofoam cup. He didn’t bat a single eyelash as the coroner gently placed Abigail’s body into her plastic herse. Far in the distance, Will clung onto a tall pine out of sight and out of mind. He’d shielded his psyche the moment Hannibal whispered of Abigail’s death. He crept up to where Crawford and Hannibal stood and watched as Abigail was carted back towards the rehab. Jack broke the silence with a gruff sigh.   


“Someone knew she was here.”, it wasn’t exactly a question but, Hannibal wasn’t the one to be interrogated by the likes of a man like Jack. He turned away and watched the still pale red stream flow through the forest floor. “Who did this?”

  
“Jack, I’m a psychiatrist not a detective. I believe that is your field of work. If you weren’t standing here perhaps you’d be able to answer that question.”, Hannibal said with more bite behind his bark. He glanced at Jack from the corner of his eye and could _feel_ that hot, suffocating angry radiance that poured from Jack.   
  
“You’re right so why are you here?”, Jack bitterly replied. “If your only purpose is to mock me and my team then I’m more than happy to _personally_ escort you off _my_ crime scene.”

 

Hannibal turned his whole self around and gave Crawford his signature cynical looks.

 

_Because I conjure the demons you can’t exorcise._

 

Will said nothing and left the both of his Alpha counterparts flared up with whatever their hypermasculinity compelled their biology to deem as threatening to their manhood. He walked up towards the rehab with a heavy, distasteful feeling in his chest. He already wept for Abigail on the car ride over here yet, his mind refused to give him solace that she’s no longer suffering. He could still visualize how blood gushed from her chest and how scared she must’ve felt that she was _dying_ . Will constantly teetered on the edge of death. It lapped at his feet like the ocean and lulled him to its murky depths. It sprouted horns and fur and growled at him in the dark. A hooved beast of carnal evils that feasted on Will’s intestines in his nightmares and left his head in shambles.  Yet he never _feared_ death. He knew eventually he’ll die but, he’d been put in so many hostile situations that death seemed to be a _luxury_ . The beast of his nightmares, however, was no agent of salvation. Dark and hungry it stalked through the pines as Will reached the parking lot with crowds of reporters and onlookers squawked amongst themselves. It faded away in the mid morning sun into wherever it dwells. News vans continued to drive up the cobbled road as more and more locals seemed to multiply in the dozens. The late daughter of the Minnesota Strike brutally executed? The story must be sweeter than honey for these people.   


_Look how they flock into the slaughterhouse._

 

Will shielded himself from the onslaught of reporters that overwhelmed the officers from the barricades. Their prying eyes and curious mouths got the better of the profiler. He was bombarded with questions and remarks from all sorts of uncouth mouths. The officers, who couldn’t seem to provide any shield for Will given his status with the Bureau, couldn’t keep the reporters from hollering at the profiler. He hardly saw them as people anymore. He could see their mouths as beaks spewing black sludge everywhere. How horrible their eyes bloated and oozed with pus and their arms and legs sprouted tentacles. Will felt like vomiting.  
  
“Is it true that the victim’s heart was cut out?”, one reporter asked before being pushed by another.   


“Is this a Ripper case? Have you found a suspect? Does this show the incompetence of the Bureau?”   


“Was this some kind of revenge case? The victim was the daughter of the Minnesota Strike so is it safe to assume someone was out for blood?”   


Will slid his way through the crowd of reporters as they were ushered back by local law enforcement. He could still hear their obnoxious squawking rattle around in his cage of a head. He cared little for their accusations or their persecutions. He dragged himself to the edge of the parking lot and out of prying eyes to a smaller group, mostly of Beta women and men, that whispered amongst themselves. They glared at Will almost accusingly as he tried to make his way back to Hannibal’s car. One of them, an older woman with bleached hair and a row of crooked teeth, nearly pounced on Will as he got closer. The profiler was taken back by the woman as another Beta in the group had to hold her by the arm. She screamed profanities at him and had the nerve to actually spit on him. He used his sleeve to wipe the droplets of spit off his cheek and continued to make his sluggish waltz to Hannibal’s Bentley.   


“I’m glad that bitch is dead! She should have died in that house with her piece of shit sicko of a dad she had!”

 

Will snapped his head around fast and the group of Betas froze. He heard them mocking him, saw them smirking at him, and cooing at him like crows.

 

_They weren’t human._

 

The woman that was hollering at him fell silent as her mouth filled with yellowish teeth hung. A fiery, burning anger compelled Will to lunge forward. He took three strides and paused in between.  


_What am I doing? Abigail wouldn’t want me to do this._   


Will stared at the older woman dumbfounded. She closed her mouth and cowered behind the Betas around her. Their disgusting figures looked human again in Will’s eyes. He had nothing to say. The profiler’s fists was bawled up so tight that they became cheeky red and started to ache. He licked his lips and turned back around.   


_This isn’t going to bring her back._   


Will made it to the Bentley and leaned against the hood of the car. Most of the media attention finally directed itself to law enforcement as more arrived onto the scene to keep the peace. It was finally quiet. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. His body screamed for relief of the stress building in his muscles. He wanted a nap yet sleep fled from him all morning. His body had been lax when he tumbled into Hannibal’s bed in a battle of flesh and tongue. He smiled at the thought. How raw and sensational it was to hold Hannibal in his arms and _feel_ him. Their sweat slick bodies matched with a crescendo of moans filled that bedroom. How full he felt when Hannibal was inside him. Yet, Will had a gnawing feeling that’d been a _mistake_ .   


It was a thought that came to mind during the car ride. Ever since the night they were attacked, Hannibal refused to share any details on the attacker with the _same_ face. The doppelganger Hannibal refused to name.He always found a distraction to keep Will from digging deeper. Will dug his nails into his palms as the events of that night replayed in his head over and over again. They had agreed that night they wouldn't utter a single world until the case was closed but enough time has passed. Hannibal was still reluctant to share details of his family let alone his _twin brother_ . No one had a perfect family but, they both could have died that night. This _fling_ or whatever they are having felt in all ways wrong and rushed. He cherished Hannibal as a trusted advisor and friend but, intimacy nearly drove Will to drink. His biology crossed him like Judas did to Jesus. Nothing made sense anymore. Will shoved his hands in his pockets and fished his prescription out of his pocket. He pressed the little pill out of the foil and slid it into his mouth.

 

_Make up your mind already._

 

Hannibal had finally made it back to the Bentley and did not utter a single word to Will. He started the car and waited for Will to come in from the passenger door. When they were finally alone and away from curious eyes, that's when they looked at each other. Will looked at the long, aged lines running across Hannibal’s face and took in the brief moment he could see Hannibal. The psychiatrist looked back at him too, puzzled, yet seemingly aware of what anything Will was thinking about. He smiled and reached out to brush the morning stubble Will didn’t whack off this morning. Instinctively, Will wanted to curve his cheek into that warm hand but, he jerked back away from Hannibal’s reach. The profiler looked out the window and pursed his lips.  


“I understand your grief, William. She was like a daughter to me too.”, Hannibal said softly, laying his hand on Will’s slim thigh.   


The Omega looked over at the Alpha again and softened his look. He could still see how wet Hannibal’s eyes were even though the man hid it behind a gentle smile.

 

_Vulnerable._

 

“May we talk once we’re back at my home?”, Hannibal asked as he put his keys into the ignition.

  
Will shrugged his shoulders. He was tired of _talking_ about things. Being idle only left more bodies piling up at their feet. Blood welled up to their necks as the day passes on. He was sick and tired of it. He remembered when he saw Abigail’s body on the floor in her own kitchen, staring up at him like a deer in the headlights. How her neck oozed and regurgitated her blood. The last moments of Garret Jacob Hobbs mocking him as he kept pressure on Abigail’s neck.

 

Will had clicked the seatbelt around his body and ran his fingers through his hair. He craved caffeine like something fierce. Hannibal took initiative to start the car and depart from the quickly crowding parking lot of the Omega home. It was a fairly quiet drive other than passing cars on the highway. Will watched as they bustled by. He didn’t know what to say to break the ice nor did Hannibal attempt to. The radio wasn’t playing either. It was just a hauntingly eerie silence between them till the Bentley pulled into the driveway of Hannibal’s estate. The engine hummed as Hannibal relaxed his hands off the steering wheel. He glanced to his Omega counterpart and smiled softly. It was devastating for the both of them. The secrets and the assurances couldn’t be quelled with promises anymore. Hannibal reached for Will’s hand and caught it. The Omega looked at him with a soft, blank look he always had.

  
“I’m ready, William.”, he said. “I’m ready to tell you _everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, comment your feedback, opinions, expectations below. Share with your friends. Like always, see you next update.


	17. Important Notice!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Read Below!

Dear Readers,  


 

> As much as I don't want to type this, I'm afraid I do. I started this story in 2015 with a clear picture of how I wanted it to continue. With regret, I've grown out of touch with this work and no longer feel I can give you quality content at the current moment. I'm working on my studies while trying to cram writing in-between. I don't think I'm entirely going to discontinue 'A Floral Courtship' but on the list of what needs to be updated, it's not in my top three. However, I hope this doesn't cause you to not to see my other updates. I want to thank yall for supporting me thus far. In the meantime, please take a look at my current in-progress works. Please understand I didn't want to leave the work as "16/?" and have you wonder if I'm every going to update. Sorry if this was an inconvience.
> 
>  

Sincerely,

Jxkuzure  
 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Read [Kindred](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12214434)
> 
> Read [Violence Fetish](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12990819)
> 
> Message Me On [Sarahah](https://jxkuzuree.sarahah.com/)


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